Save Me From Myself
by dianadrinksadozendrinks
Summary: High-school AU. Cosima is a moody teenager, trying to not let the darkness of her innermost demons take her over. But as she falls in love with an angelic French girl, her darkness starts to fade. Can Delphine save Cosima from herself?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! So yeah, this is my first non-one-shot story and frankly, I have no idea what I'm doing.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black or its characters.**

* * *

 _What do I want to become when I grow up?  
_ _I have asked myself this question way too many times and it just seems like there's no one to answer that question. I don't know what I want to become, what I want to do in my future. I am utterly lost, somewhat like a hopeless case. A rebel. A troublemaker. An outcast. I didn't want to grow up and at some point I didn't even want to live anymore. I hated myself and my life. Yes, I hated everything and everyone... Until she saved me from myself._

"Niehaus!" the history teacher points at a quirky fifteen year old girl with a pair of glasses.

"Pay attention," he yells.

"It's hard to pay attention to bullshit," she answers irreverently.

This impudent individual named Cosima Niehaus who so confidently stares back at the furious teacher whose features has just turned even harder than they were before smiles contently at her own response.

"That is it!" he shouts, his road-like blood vessels in his neck bulging and his head as red as chilli. Like a mad bull he stares at the indifferent girl.

"You're going to the headmaster's office, young lady."

"Not that I care," Cosima shrugs and left the classroom.

"Another suspension? Oh Cosima, when will you finally take school seriously? When will you finally take your life seriously? Do you want to work at McDonald's when you grow up? And don't you walk away from me Cosima Niehaus, I am not done talking to you yet!" But before the despaired mother could say anything else the door on which several "keep out" and "don't bother me" posters hang is slammed shut. Cosima's mother rattles the door violently but to no avail - it is locked.

"We are not done here!" she shouts angrily at the wooden barrier between herself and her daughter.

Meanwhile in her own room, Cosima lies on her bed in the corner of her dark room and stares at the ceiling, earphones filling her mind with loud electronic music.  
Her room is just as queer as her personality. Her once snowy white walls are layered with loads of posters of bands and her blinds which are always closed make her gloomy room appear like a dungeon. Cosima looks at the digital alarm clock right next to her reading lamp (which she has never ever used for reading before) on her little nightstand on the left side of her bed. 12:38 o'clock.

"It's never too early or too late for a nap," she yawns and flutters her eyes shut after she takes off her glasses, placing them on her nightstand.

* * *

"Good morning, class! Today we get a new student! Come in, Delphine, it's alright.

Would you please introduce yourself to your new class, Delphine?"

A shy girl with angelic blonde curls stands nervously in front of the class that looks at her with curiosity. The boys widen their eyes at the sight of this ravishing girl and the girls smile at her welcomingly.

"My name is Delphine Cormier, I am 16 years old and I am from France," her thick French accent supporting her latter statement, "it is nice to meet you all."

Her long fingers brush a strand of golden curls out of her enchanting face, her gracious hazel eyes travel from face to face until they meet a dull gaze.

"So, Delphine, we only have one empty seat left and that's the seat next to Cosima back there. Cosima," now turning to said individual, "be nice to her, understood?"

"Whatever."

Delphine doesn't know what exactly to think of this rather intimidating new classmate. Sitting down on the seat which now belongs to her she cautiously approaches the adjacent girl with a warm smile.

"Hi, I'm Delphine –"

"I know your name, you've just introduced yourself."

"Uhm... Bien, I don't think I've caught yours."

"That's because I haven't told it to you," Cosima retorts. Why must the newbie be so talkative, she thinks to herself and turns away.

Blinking perplexedly, Delphine also turns away awkwardly and tries to focus on the teacher standing in front of the white board who seems to be talking about some near event. Realising just now how far in the back she is seated, she is glad that she had outstanding eyesight.  
Delphine always excelled in school and she always found it very easy to concentrate on classes, however, right now she can only think about the bored girl next to her. Delphine is keen on getting to know this girl because she has never ever met such a rebellious person before and maybe that is the reason why she is drawn to her.

"Alright class, does everyone know how this formula is to be used?" the teacher asks looking at some unsure students, expecting them to ask questions. But no questions are asked, therefore, she ends the lesson with a sigh.

"That's it for today then, class dismissed."

Before she can finish her sentence, several students jump up and storm out of the classroom happily.  
Delphine steals a glance at Cosima who stares out of the window, probably at a tree - Delphine can't really tell, not moving at all.  
Sensing a pair of eyes on her, Cosima turns to the French girl.

"What," she asks rudely.

"N-nothing," Delphine stammers as she packs her things and veers to the door, following the others.

"So, how was life in France," a blonde girl addresses Delphine.

The first day of school and she has already been accepted among the girls in her class and she has already made a bunch of new friends. Sitting in the canteen, she and her newly made friends are chit-chatting.

"Oh, it was very peaceful there, I love France. You're somehow bound to the country you grew up in that's why I think I'm going to miss being there." She shoves a spoonful of beans in her mouth, extinguishing the loud noise her empty stomach is making, but thankfully it cannot be heard over the many voices from jolly students who are talking about various topics, such as what they intend to do after school.

"Must be hard to process the sudden change," the blonde girl murmurs.

"It is a little bit, yes, but I will get used to it in no time."

"Poor you, you have to sit next to that unpleasant bitch though," another girl cuts in.

"Yeah, Cosima is super scary and mean," a third girl says.

"If she ever does anything mean, just tell us, we'll deal with that bitch."

Delphine looks at each of them confusedly. Is Cosima really that bad of a person?

"She's been very nice to me today," she lied. Why did she lie?

"You need a new definition of nice honestly," one of the girls scoffs.

After the lunch break, which Delphine has much to her surprise enjoyed with her group of new friends, she treads through the wide corridor and looks out of the windows opposite the classes dreamily, enjoying the sight of the green leaves moving with the blowing wind. The sky is veiled with a plethora of beautiful clouds, reminding her of how long she hasn't had cotton candy, however, the ferocious sun rays rip their way through the curtains of fluffy white.  
Still engrossed in her own fantasies, she tags along another corridor until suddenly—BOOM.

"Ow! Dude, watch your freaking way! What do you have eyes for, you moron!" a quite familiar voice shouts from underneath Delphine.

"What are you doing, who - ... Get the hell off me!"

"Mon dieu, je suis vraimemt désolée! Je ne sais pas ce qu'il m'arrive," she rants mortifiedly as she realises that the person she not only bumped into but also _fell onto_ is nobody else than Cosima _._

"I am really sorry," she murmurs again whilst getting up and offering the petite girl her hand to help her up, too scared to meet her furious stare.

Cosima smacks her hand away, standing up on her own.

"I don't need your help."

Delphine looks up into Cosima's chocolate brown eyes for the first time and feels how her heart skips a beat. Delphine is utterly fascinated by Cosima's eye colour, she swears there is a tint of emerald green somewhere between the many shades of brown her organs of perception hold. She could stare into that sea of enchantingly sombre colours forever, but remembering the current situation, a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment washes over.  
Cosima hates her even more now, she thinks to herself and drops her hand she has been offering the other girl to her side.

"Fuck off," Cosima snarls and leaves.

Delphine throws herself against the metallic wall of lockers exasperatedly, lolling her head back.

"Merde," she whispers defeatedly.

"That stupid French newbie, ugh, why can't she just go and annoy somebody else," Cosima mutters crossly under her breath.

 _In midst of all the anger and annoyance I felt towards her, there is something I was yet to discover. It was something I couldn't label back then. Something warm, something scary... Something I had never felt before._


	2. Chapter 2

Delphine lies in her bed and thinks about Cosima. Why is she thinking about Cosima? She doesn't know.  
She thinks about how rude Cosima has been to her, how Cosima smacked her hand away, how Cosima said "fuck off", how infamous Cosima is, how Cosima has no friends, how mysterious Cosima is... And how much she wants to _get to know_ Cosima.  
Delphine shakes her head at the latter thought. She is supposed to get mad at the impudent girl, so she can hate her, so she can stop thinking about her. For the last two days she's had nothing except of Cosima on her mind, slowly driving her insane.  
Pulling her blankets over her head, she lets the warmth of her bed and her soft blankets consume her. It has always soothed her when she was vexed, maybe this time it will as well.

"Cosima," the name escapes her dry mouth unconsciously. It rolls off her tongue with so much ease and something else. Is it longing?

Delphine's eyes shoot open in shock of her own fleet thought, her being greeted by infinite darkness. It doesn't really matter whether her eyes are open or not because the darkness stays the same. And so does the face her stubborn mind forces upon her. Cosima's face.

"Merde," she whispers and kicks away her blankets which failed in comforting her, climbing out of bed.

"I need some fresh air," she decides and walks to the window where a thin strand of silvery moonlight shines through.

Opening it, she gasps as she gazes at the full moon surrounded by thousands of sparkling little stars, each one so far away from the other, yet, somehow they look so close to each other.

* * *

 _Do you sometimes have this unexplainable craving to see blood running down your skin? Well, I do and I can't help it. But funnily, it can help me._

"I hate myself. I hate the people that hate me and I hate the fact that they make me hate myself," Cosima rants into the darkness as if somebody is actually there to listen to her but she is absolutely aware of her solitariness.  
She stands up from the cold ground she was lying on that granted her some comfort and walks towards her desk after making sure that her door is locked. With a trembling hand she reaches for it. It feels so right in her hand and it reassures her in a way nothing else could. A single tear escapes her eyelids as she grips the razor blade firmly and aims for her belly which is covered with chaotic straight reddish lines.  
The moment she feels the pain along with coursing scarlet relief washes over her. However, the relief is ever so temporary.

"What am I supposed to do with my life?" With that question parting from her chapped lips she quietly breaks into a choking sob.

* * *

Delphine yawns sleepily. She couldn't keep her eyes shut last night - how could she? Cosima's face kept swirling in front of her closed eyes and it would keep swirling in front of her opened eyes until Delphine turned on a little reading lamp to assure herself that Cosima was not with her, that whatever she's seeing is just a trick her mind was playing on her. The thing was, she tells herself, she wasn't even really seeing anybody; it was all in her head.  
Tiredly shifting her head towards the opposite direction of where a very real Cosima is sitting distractedly as always, Delphine gathers that the last thing she needs is another look of Cosima's face.  
The teacher's voice echoes through Delphine's brain, however, none of the muffled sounds she perceives are actually being processed into coherent information.  
Unconsciously, she turns towards Cosima, observing her. Cosima's gaze is unusually empty today, Delphine states silently. The mischievous glow in her features are gone, leaving behind nothing but rawness. The intent and somehow hateful way her slightly furrowed eyebrows give is nowhere to be found today. She looks so... fragile, Delphine decides.  
Is something wrong with her, Delphine wonders somehow concernedly. Should she speak to her?  
Jerking at the sudden tumult around her, she realises that class has already ended.

"I've caught nothing today," she mutters disapprovingly, reminding herself how important school is, but quickly gives the static girl her attention back.

"Delphine," one of the girls shouts, "you coming to the cafe?"

"Oui, I'll be right there, don't wait up on me," Delphine replies, her eyes never really leaving Cosima.

"Ok, see you in a bit," the girl says and disappears with the others through the door.

Cosima is still sitting on her chair, seemingly in a trance, not moving at all. She looks so beautiful under the golden sunlight which shines gracefully on her. The sight of her glassy eyes fixed upon utter nothingness, her features relaxed, and the slow but even heaving of her chest every time she inhales and exhales hoists a rush of hormones up Delphine's body right into her heart, increasing its beats steadily.  
Never has she ever seen someone so ravishing yet with such a sad expression plastered on their face.  
Suddenly, Cosima's jaw flexes, but apart from that her posture stays motionlessly still, very much like a statue. The roaring urge to thaw the frozen girl drives Delphine nearer to her.

"Hey." Delphine doesn't know what she's doing, she doesn't even know how to proceed this conversation. A tad of fear leaps through her nerves.

Cosima neither seems to notice that the lesson has long ended nor that her French neighbour is trying to initiate a conversation with her.

"Are you ok?" Delphine says, putting her hand on Cosima's shoulder, startling her.

Her tired gaze falls upon Delphine's worried face, then her hand on her shoulder. She stares at the French girl's warm hand on her cold shoulder, still engrossed in her own troubles, which, to Cosima's surprise, seem to fade a little by little just from the soothing touch of this individual next to her.  
Finally, she looks up again.

"What?" her voice is so small and broken compared to the last time Delphine heard it.

"Are you ok," Delphine repeats, her hand daringly sliding to her shoulder blade and stroking it gently.

Cosima is perplexed by how much attention and closeness the blonde is offering her. All her life she's longed for somebody who did so, yet, everybody pushed her away instead of inviting her in. It was something that has hardened Cosima over the time.  
But Delphine's tender caress reminds her just how very much she longs for this kind of closeness and how very much she wants to let her walls down for once. Just once.

"I'm..." Cosima doesn't know what to answer. Is this stranger worth letting her walls down for? Is she worth the risk?

Like a mask the fragility falls off her face, her usual charade creeping back.

"I'm fine," she says dismissively and shakes off Delphine's hand.

The sudden empty feeling which comes with the passive removal of Delphine's hand tackles Cosima's senses, making her regret her action almost immediately.

"I have to go," Cosima growls angrily while she gets up, in an attempt to leave.

Why does the newbie have to be so nice to her, she asks herself frustratedly because kindness is something she hasn't experienced in a long time. But before Cosima can make it out the classroom, Delphine's voice - her magical voice - catches up with Cosima.

"Would you like to have lunch with me?"

Cosima freezes. Never has she been invited to lunch by anybody before. Contemplating whether she should accept the offer by the French stranger who's shown her more kindness in half a week than most people in her whole life, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other restlessly.  
A friend, she chuckles bitterly to herself—that's too good to be true. And besides, she doesn't need friends anyway.

"No," she says and leaves the blonde alone in the classroom.

"D'accord..." A lump is forming inside of Delphine's throat and it hinders her from breathing properly. She really just wants to be friends with her, her kindness is genuine. So why won't Cosima let her in? What is she doing wrong?

"What does she want from me," Cosima queries the darkness, her only friend. Like usually when she feels forlorn, she closes her blinds, puts some music on, lays to the ground, and talks. The enveloping darkness, the rhythmic tune of her music, and the supporting ground are always there when melancholy veils her.

"Why's she being so nice to me? It's confusing me. She makes me feel..."

Cosima contemplates. She can't find the right words to describe how Delphine makes her feel like, she's never used adjectives other than "annoyed" or "shit" to describe how a person makes her feel like.

"She makes me feel weird," she says, her mouth dry, her voice husky.

Arriving home after a tedious day at school, Delphine tosses her heavy school bag adjacent to her desk and stumbles face-forward on to her bed. In a pool of softness, she pats for her pillow. Once finding it, she grabs it firmly and pulls it in for a stress-relieving hug. How did everything become so tiresome and complicated?  
Her phone in her school bag buzzes, ripping Delphine from her vexing thoughts back into reality.  
Pushing herself up from bed with an annoyed groan, she slouches to the source of noise. The annoyance is replaced by absolute joy when she finds that it was a text message by her best friend Genevieve. Instead of replying to the "Hey :)" Delphine presses the call button enthusiastically.

"Bonjour Del," her friend picks up before the second ring, her face beaming on Delphine's phone.

"Bonjour Gène! How are you?"

"I'm fine, when am I not?" she laughs.

"What about you?" she enquires.

"You look horrible though! Look at your pouches. Girl, have you been studying all night long again?"

"Ugh, I surely feel horrible," Delphine sighs.

"And no, I haven't been studying at all, actually. I've been thinking about a person."

"Ooooh, tell me more," Genevieve insisted playfully.

"Well, for starters this person is very rude to me and this person is just rude in general but there is something about this person I can't shake. Like, as if there is some mysterious force pushing me towards this person. But obviously this person doesn't like me."

"Wow," Genevieve raises her eyebrows,

"that's complicated. Wait! Are you crushing on someone already? Delphine, my dear friend, you were never the one to crush on random boys, America has changed you in such a short time, God, that's horrible! Hopefully you won't dress up like a prostitute when we meet again," she teases her.

"No, America is not changing me at all and," Delphine adds strenuously, "I am not crushing on anybody!"

"Mm, yeah right," Genevieve smirks at her, not believing what her frustrated friend has just told her.

"What I feel towards her is absolutely platonic."

"Wait, what you feel towards _her_?"

Delphine clenches her jaw, her eyes wide with shock. Somehow seeing her friend cocking her eyebrow at her with perplexity written across her face, makes her feel abnormal. But it shouldn't make her feel abnormal because whatever it is she has for Cosima is completely not sexual... She hopes.

"I..." Delphine begins but doesn't know how to continue and looks away shamefully.

"Are you having a crush on a girl?" Her friend's voice pressing but not quite judging.

"I don't know," she emits, close to breaking down. All this time Delphine has ignored all the confusion which has been building up inside of her and has denied every sign which says that she is attracted to that particular girl, and now all of that comes bashing on her, much like a pack of blood-thirsty wolves ripping apart their weak and scared prey.

"Aw darling, don't cry," Genevieve attempts feebly but her consoling words can't erase the distress seizing Delphine's tired mind.

"I don't want to be a potential lesbian - what will my parents think of me," Delphine snuffles.

"Del, you need to calm down. You are not a lesbian. It's not possible because firstly," Genevieve stresses the next words excessively, as if she is talking to a hearing-impaired person, "you've had a boyfriend before. So if you really do have a crush on her you'd be bisexual. Del, you're the geek here, why don't you use that crazy intelligent brain of yours?" Genevieve scolds, rolling her eyes.

"Now, secondly," she proceeds, "even if you were bisexual, that wouldn't matter anyway. You'll be sexually attracted to girls, too - but so what? As long as you don't rape me while I'm sleeping, I'm ok with whatever sexuality you turn out to have."

Delphine giggles. She loves her friend who is like the opposite of herself—extroverted, crazy, and always joking - and in times like this Delphine is glad that they beat the odds, becoming the best of friends.

"You know that I will accept you, whether you're bald or you have an arse of a hippo, it doesn't matter. But you know what is absolutely crucial? That you accept yourself as much as I accept you."

Genevieve's words tramp through Delphine's mind, leaving a deep trace of agreement. Maybe she should stop pushing away the whatever it is she has for Cosima and face them, however hard it may be.

Meanwhile Cosima is still lying on the ground, eyes fixed on the ceiling, her mind running a race it is bound to lose. A plethora of questions attack her overwhelmed brain, not a single answer to its defence. She hasn't let anyone in since her father left her mother and herself, creating a gaping hole in that once happy family which can never be mended. Cosima still loves her father, she does, however, his disposing of the ones he swore to protect so easily left a distinctive mark Cosima cannot get rid of. Scared to let her stained heart be broken yet once again, Cosima is reluctant to give into Delphine's inviting warmth. But the way Delphine approaches her - it makes Cosima feel like she is actually being cared about, a feeling quite alien to her.

Arguing with her own paranoid dark self, telling herself that Delphine is probably just using her for an unknown reason, Cosima discerns that for once her dark self sounds pitifully ridiculous. Because her desire to just _get to know_ Delphine is way too strong, even for her demonic phantom.

* * *

 **The conversation between Delphine and Genevieve should obviously be in French but, you know, my French isn't the best, that is to say it is très horrible, and I figured that many of you don't speak fluent French either, which is why—to everybody's advantage—it's written in English.**


	3. Chapter 3

Cosima slowly walks towards the somewhat intimidating desk. Why is it intimidating? She does not know herself. Maybe it is its dark colour and old fashioned style that gives her chills when she stands in front of it. She opens the first drawer, knowing its contents like the back of her hand. She slips her meek hand inside it and feels the metallic object she was aiming for. She starts at the cold touch and takes it with a firm grip. As she holds it to her head and puts her finger on the trigger, she pulls it without the slightest hint of hesitation. The pang of the piercing bullet she does not feel. The pain she holds inside flees from its cage of flesh.  
Blood splashes. Tears stream. Body temperature sinks. Her hand wrapped around the pistol is just as cold as the metal.  
Cosima's eyes slowly flutter open - it was but a dream. She sighs. How much she wants the sweet nightmare to be real. Perhaps the land of the dead holds a better place, Cosima often fancies.  
Getting up and not bothering to open her blinds, she leaves her cave-like room and descends the modern flight of stairs leading to a little corridor filled with pictures of Cosima's childhood on either sides of the walls.  
She enters the cosy kitchen, considering what to make herself for breakfast. Her mother works as a nurse, therefore she virtually always leaves for work before Cosima is even up and thus, Cosima has been making breakfast for herself for a few years.

"What am I gonna eat today," she murmurs, "chocolate cereal or honey cereal?"

Since her choices have always been between different cereal flavours breakfast has never been a problem.

"Let's go for chocolate today."

She pours it tiredly into her bowl alongside cold milk.  
She closes her eyes in tiredness, thinking about her dream, nevertheless, her hand guides the spoonful of cereal into her open mouth with no difficulty.

"What day is today," she says between chews, "mm, it's Friday. I get to sleep in tomorrow," she states crisply.

After she finishes her breakfast, she promenades back to the second floor, taking a turn into the plainly bright bathroom to brush her teeth.  
Cosima sighs as she stares at her reflection. Does she always look so worn out? Avoiding her own sombre eyes full of melancholy she is long used to falling into, a heatwave of self-loathing hits her like a grenade.  
Hurriedly rinsing her mouth and washing her face, she exits the bathroom not wanting to see her face all too soon. Now her mood has dropped even further down.  
She walks past her unmade bed to her wardrobe not caring about its messy state and puts on something she feels comfortable in. If she doesn't feel comfortable in her skin, she reasons, she might as well feel comfortable in her clothes.  
Cosima throws her schoolbag over her shoulder and slouches lazily to school, as demotivated as ever.

As she arrives at school, she treads towards her locker to get her books. A quick check on the timetable attached on the inner side of her locker door tells her that her first two periods are biology. Cosima strolls into the lab-like classroom and spots Delphine occupying the usual empty seat next to her. Invisible strings pull at the corner of Cosima's lips like a marionette. She takes a seat next to this curly-haired girl and feels as her inner war with herself comes to a ceasefire when Delphine flashes her a timid smile.

"Good morning class," the biology teacher salutes.

"Today we're going to do something exciting!" he grins at the pupils, all lacking too much sleep to be influenced by his attempt to rouse their interest.

"Come on people, look alive!" he claps his hands loudly, "because in order to do what we're gonna do today you need a lot of concentration, kiddies! Guess what we're gonna do today. Somebody? Anybody? Nobody? Fine then," he chuckles almost devilishly, "I'm going to tell you. We are going to dissect afish! Now, is anybody afraid of blood?"

The lively man scans his class that looks at him attentively, finally excited for their lesson.

"Whoever feels sick during our little operation may wait outside, that's no problem. Ok, people you're working in pairs because we don't have so many fish for you to play with," he rubs his hands, "the tools which have been already prepared and sorted for you are here and once you've found your partners and gotten all the tools you need, you're going to come to me to get your fish, understood? Don't worry, the fish are of course dead. Listen everybody, your task is not only to filet the fish it is also to extract all of its organs and make a sketch of each organ, naming them and listing their functions, alright? Don't fool around and make sashimi - and please be careful with the scalpels. You may start now, try to finish before the lesson ends."

"Cosima?"

She jerks at her name.

"What?"

"Would you like to work with me?" Delphine asks carefully.

Cosima just stares at her bluntly unable to form an answer. Who the hell wants to work with her, she couldn't comprehend.  
Delphine's eyes trace every single movement in Cosima's visage, wanting to just jump out of the window and fly away in embarrassment. Nevertheless she tightens her jaw and doesn't break their stare in high hopes that Cosima might say yes. But just as her hopes start to collapse she is greeted by a lop-sided awkward smile.

"Yeah."

Both girls' heart flutter briefly neither knowing that the other felt the same.  
Getting the shining equipment for the quasi-autopsy ready, Cosima strides to the teacher with tight dark-blonde locks to get the dead sea creature. Cosima holds it by its fin as far away from her torso as possible, cringing at its touch despite her wearing gloves.  
Delphine is excellent at biology, in fact, she is excellent at everything, nevertheless, she couldn't help but stare at the dead animal Cosima is bringing her. The way Cosima's brows furrow to the extent of impossibility and her scrunching her nose in revulsion, walking towards herself cautiously as to not drop their project makes Delphine blow up in a series of hearty giggles.

"Uhm... We uh... Should start... The dissection," Cosima suggests and places the fish on a metallic plate before them.

"Oui," Delphine fidgets with her rubber gloves and feels as her heart thrashes allegro.

The two of them engross themselves in their assignment, carefully dissecting the fish and removing its organs one by one.

"This could be the heart." Delphine holds up a tiny muscle and examines it attentively until a sudden force from behind her thrushes her towards Cosima, the scalpel in Delphine's right hand piercing through Cosima's thin layer of clothing and finally, her skin.

"Shit! I'm sorry, are you alright?" a tall and awkward boy with bright blue eyes apologises.

Cosima freezes. The stinging pain in her abdomen and the warm blood adhering her clothes to her body should frighten her, panic her even, nonetheless, she relaxes at the rush of endorphins spiralling along her blood vessels.

"Mon dieu!" Her relaxed high is disturbed by a loud and terrified outcry adjacent to herself.

"Cosima! You are bleeding!" her French accent thickening with utmost horror pointing at Cosima's belly, then to the scalpel on the ground covered with a thin layer of brilliant red.

"What's happening here? Niehaus, are you alright?" The teacher comes sprinting to the bloody scene and takes a swift look at her injury.

"Somebody take her to the first aid," he shouts.

"I will," Delphine volunteers immediately and grabs Cosima's shoulders subtly and leads her out the classroom. In the corridor, they can still hear curious whispers and hot gossip about the incident behind their back but Cosima couldn't care less.

"Do you even know where the first aid is, Delphine?"

Delphine halts in realisation that she does not know where she is heading indeed.  
Cosima chuckles.

"I'm fine, Delphine. You can let go of me now. Just follow me, alright?"

"Non, Cosima, you have to apply pressure to your wound."

"Relax, it's not very deep and it doesn't hurt anyway," she tries to soothe the nervous blonde. Despite her cool manner, Cosima is moved by Delphine - how she volunteered in an instant, how she is genuinely concerned about Cosima. The tall girl's anxiety is an undeniable proof to the wounded one that she has a place in her heart somewhere - a revelation Cosima cannot even fathom in her wildest dreams.

"Good gracious," the chubby school nurse cries when the two lasses appeared in her doorframe.

"What happened?"

Delphine elaborates the matter crisply until a point her native language slips out of uncontainable nervousness.

"What she was trying to say was I got stabbed with a scalpel but it's not that deep so it's actually ok," Cosima summarises.

"Well, we'll see if the wound's deep or not. Please roll up your shirt."

Cosima tenses.

"No."

"What? Come now, this is a serious matter!"

"No."

She shoots the school nurse a lethal glare.

"It has to be taken care of," the plump woman insists.

"My mom works at a hospital, I'll get a check there."

While the school nurse contacts the mother of the injured one, explaining as to why there is a gaping hole in Cosima's abdomen, Delphine loses it and starts weeping convulsively.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"It... It is my fault... I... I stabbed you," she says in between wails, "and I am... so... so, so sorry."

"No... No, it's not. Hey, look at me," Cosima whispers, "it is not your fault, ok?" The French girl's big doe-eyes widen, the glint of absolute remorse and guilt in them not fading.

"And you didn't stab me," Cosima laughs.

"And Delphine?"

"Oui?" There were glistening tears glazing her glassy eyes.

"I wanted to..." Cosima clenches her jaw, "I wanted to apologise for being rude to you all this time. I've been a bitch and -"

"Non," Delphine interrupts and smiles, biting her lower lip sheepishly.

"And I just want to get to know you," Cosima finishes her sentence in a different way she first had in mind, but speaking the total truth.

"I would love to get to know you, too."

Delphine can't hear anything else save her throbbing heartbeat which beats like a galloping horse in the grassy meadows chasing the dazzling sun and challenging the soundless wind to a speedy race. However, her heart suddenly stops as Cosima writhes in pain.

"Cosima?"

Delphine instinctively pulls up Cosima's shirt and gasps when she sees dozens of cuts scattered on her tight belly.

"What is this?"

"Nothing," Cosima snarls rearranging her shirt, not feeling the sharp pain anymore instead panic and shame flush over her.

"Cosima, talk to me," Delphine pleads tenderly, her voice as entrancing as a fairy's.

All Cosima wants is to tell her everything - her petty and intricate secrets. And maybe if it hasn't been for her mother rushing through the door, she would have.

"Oh my God, Cosima! Honey, what happened? Does it hurt? Are you ok? Are you feeling dizzy?" her mother bombards her with a plethora of questions she didn't even catch.

"Let's get you to the hospital."

Cosima applies as much pressure to her wound as possible, just like she was told by Delphine, and looks out of the glass but not really focusing on anything. She watches as buildings slide by in a grey blur. Her feelings, which are just as blurry, she cannot identify. Would Cosima really have told Delphine if it wasn't for her mother? Cosima has never told anyone before and she has never intended to, but in the heat of the very moment all she wanted to do was to trust Delphine with everything she has and is. Cosima's trance overtakes her fully, so that she doesn't hear her fretted mother's telling her that they have arrived at the hospital and that everything is going to be alright.

"Come on honey, get out of the car, fast. Doctor Riley is awaiting you."

"Hello Natasha. Cosima, pray lie down!" Doctor Riley, an amiable British man with soft features and a kind smile plastered on his clean shaven face, points to a rectangular, plain hospital bed.

"Mom, can you wait outside, please?"

"Of course, honey. If you need me, I'll be right outside." She leaves the room with no further objection, respecting her daughter's privacy.

"Let's have a look at the wound, shall we?"

Uncovering Cosima's wound alongside the self-inflicted scars, his features harden with a gasp. Cosima could all but flex her jaw and look away.

"The wound looks rather superficial. Your organs seem to be fine. It can be fixed with a few stitches. Two, if I'm not mistaken. This will be quick, don't be scared," he promises.

"Let's get to it then," he says and reaches for the syringe of morphine.

The procedure, as Doctor Riley said, did not last long and after it was done, the doctor addresses Cosima's self-harming.

"You know, the scars will probably stay forever. And also, it will make the area you harm yourself on go numb. If the tool you do it with isn't carefully cleaned, you could also get your cuts seriously infected, I advise you to attend a therapist and talk about whatever is on your mind."

"Thanks doc but no thanks. I'm fine and don't tell my mom, please. I can manage this on my own."

"I won't tell your mum, for I reckon it is something you should do yourself. But do reconsider your choices to deal with inner stress. I know a lot of teenagers who choose to take drugs to remain relaxed or happy and I also know quite a few people who self-harm. It is very much addictive since the hormones, mostly the endorphins, which are released can alleviate your mental pain and stress."

"I know, I know, you can't send me to rehab for this though. And I think I should go," Cosima ends the conversation annoyedly.

"Thank you doc. Bye."

Delphine's bicycle, which actually belongs to her neighbour - a friendly elderly lady living alone save a dozen stray cats and dogs she's provided her humble home as shelter for - rattles through the empty street in the orange glow of the setting sun. She has just found Cosima's address in the school's contact information index **,** thus she heads to her, wanting to offer her the most heartfelt apology and also to check on how she is doing.

"Hello, I am Delphine, Cosima's classmate. I am here to see her," Delphine says at the door of the house, it's roof of which the brunette and her mother, who is standing in front Delphine smiling warmly, live under.

"How kind of you, Delphine. Please, come in. I'm Cosima's mother. She is upstairs in her room. If you need anything, you can call me anytime."

"Thank you, madam."

The blonde girl smiles weakly and ascends the stairs to Cosima's room. Knocking curtly on the intimating door and getting no answer, she knocks again. This time she is greeted by a growled "what", thus opening the door carefully. There is another world unfolding before Delphine - Cosima's world, at least a part of the world she grew up in. Her heart breaks as she realises how very dark this world is, hence she wants to dive into her world and try her best to lighten up this everlasting night, even a single flickering candle may be enough.

"Cosima!" Delphine vaults over the various things on the ground on which Cosima is also lying lazily.

"Are you ok?"

"Chill dude, I'm fine."

"Why are you lying on the ground then?" Delphine asks, almost desperately.

"Because I like it."

Cosima eyes the French lass, noting the panic scurrying across her face and leaving a notable trace of anxiety.

"Why are you here?"

"I came to apologise for injuring you once again," she begins and hesitantly adds, "and also to apologise for invading your privacy."

Cosima sits up and faces Delphine on an equal level. A tingling feeling spreads in the stomach of the bespectacled girl, ceasing all the hatred she has built up towards the blonde beauty in front of her. Cosima wants to hate her, but she simply cannot.

"Cosima, I want you to know that you can talk to me."

"I barely know you."

"Then give me the chance to show you who I am! Give me the chance to show you that you can trust me."

"I..." Cosima is speechless. Her insides start to tumble and it makes her want to vomit. The little shocks induced by Delphine's hand, which she has placed on Cosima's shoulder to emphasise her sincerity, reach the tips of her fingers causing the slight shudder in her hands. The little light coming from outside the door Delphine has left agape in her hurry shapes Delphine's silhouette. Her golden curls are hanging loosely to the sides of her pale face. Cosima's heart unexpectedly thumps faster as Delphine sinks her perfectly white teeth into her bottom lip.

"Please Cosima," she pleads.

"Ok," is all the brunette manages and balls her fists, trying to dissipate her nervousness.

"Merci" Delphine smiles at her and moves closer for an embrace Cosima has not anticipated for and instead of pushing her away, she leans into the warmth of the blonde and buries her face in her soft curls, savouring her sweet scent. Cosima wants to never let go of this fire which warms her but does not combust her. The fire that is thawing her lump of ice inside her chest.


	4. Chapter 4

That _night was a turning point in my life because this girl, Delphine Cormier, was the first person for me to open up to. It was so easy and natural, like I've been doing it for all my life. I knew in my heart that I could trust her more than anyone. I remember how we sat next to each other in silence, utterly comfortable silence, how I lost myself in her hazel eyes, how time passed so quickly neither of us noticed how late it was. And that was when she left. But I knew that she was still here, with me, and that she always will be._

Cosima is awakened by her buzzing phone right next to her pillow. To check it she puts on her glasses and squints her eyes at the sudden brightness of her phone.

' _Hi Cosima. Any plans for today? x_ '

One corner of her dry lips jerk into a lop-sided smile automatically as she rereads the text message from Delphine, whilst a sudden rush of excitement hits her guts, making her feel funny.

 _'Nope, you?'_

 _'Do you want to do something with me?'_

 _'Yeah sure. What?'_

 _'Watch a movie with me?'_

 _'Sure. When?'_

 _'Now. I'm on my way to you."_

Delphine sends the message, smiling in anticipation to see Cosima. To go watch a film with Cosima. To spend time with Cosima. It is hardly noon and the graceful birds gliding through the fresh summer's air take all possible sorrow with them to somewhere far away where it will never find its way back. The puffy clouds slowly drift by and conceal the sun every now and then but it doesn't matter because the sun, much like Delphine's joy, is way too strong for anything to contain it.  
Arriving at Cosima's house, she rings the doorbell just like the day before. But unlike the day before, she is greeted by a quite sleepy-looking Cosima who is still in her pyjamas, dreads in a messy yet comely bun. A grin shoots up in Cosima's face and Delphine cannot help but be enraptured by the unusually bright glint in her dark eyes which normally bear the dull mixture of boredom, annoyance, and a tad of melancholy.

"Hey Delphine, I'm sorry, I just got up," she says huskily, her voice obviously still thick with sleep.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I can wait outside or in a nearby cafe if –"

Her nervous ramble is interrupted by a soft chuckle and a toothy grin which speaks more than mere words could.

"No, come in," Cosima offers while taking a step to the side, making ample space for Delphine to slip into her home.

"Uhm... Would you like some breakfast?" Cosima chuckles at her own meek offer as she leads them into the kitchen, to the table whereon an unfinished bowl of cereals remain untouched. Due to the cleanness of the kitchen, Delphine wonders whether somebody actually uses it.

"Is that everything you eat?"

"Well, yeah. There's nobody to cook for me, is there?"

"How about I cook something for you sometime?" Delphine smirks.

Imagining Delphine standing in her kitchen and cooking something for her, the bespectacled girl can all but laugh.

"That would be really cool."

Delphine observes the girl opposite of her, shovelling spoonfuls of honey cereal into her mouth, chewing only a few times before swallowing, and loses herself in the cute way she flutters her eyelids to stay awake.  
Everything around Delphine disappears, the only thing she can see is this wondrous girl in front of her, so raw and true. If she isn't a work of art then Delphine doesn't know what is. Time slows down and so does Delphine's respiration. She has lost herself in complete awe for Cosima, feeling as gravity reverses itself causing her to fall upwards into the bed of clouds. All Delphine wants is to float above the speckless white with Cosima to be free of all laws and restrictions.

"Delphine? Delphiiiiine?" Cosima chimes.

"Are you still here with me?"

"Oh, sorry, I uh... I was just... I was just thinking about the weather," Delphine says half-truthfully.

"The weather? Okay," Cosima hesitates, not sure whether to believe the other girl, "Well, I am done with breakfast. I'll just go up and brush my teeth and change, I'll be right back."

"Cosima?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I... Take a look around?"

"Yeah sure," she laughs, "there's nothing special though. But go ahead." With that she runs upstairs.

Before Delphine gets up slowly she takes in every detail of the kitchen, how its walls are painted in different shades of orange and how the minimalistic furniture are a deeper shade of red. Its colours are so welcoming but the emptiness and cleanness of it makes it seem unlived in.  
Delphine leaves the kitchen and finds herself standing in the little corridor which serves as a connection - from the corridor Delphine can choose to go upstairs, go to the living room, or simply out the door. But instead, she decides to stay and to look at all the happy faces of Cosima on the wall. Cosima looks so happy - Delphine cannot fathom what vile a thing could rob that goofy smile from that jolly child on the pictures. Why doesn't Cosima smile like that anymore?  
Turning into the spacious living room, decorated by a large, white sofa and an armchair next to it, a dusty flatscreen television, and a set of azure curtains tucked neatly to the sides of the massive glass, forming the boundary between the outside world and this home, Delphine perceives that outside the wall-like window, freshly cut grass embrace the delicate flowers basking in the warmth.  
Adjacent to the television is an unused fireplace also covered with a thick layer of dust. Delphine wonders whether Cosima sat in front of the hearth drinking hot chocolate on christmas eve when she was younger. That thought turns into a fantasy of herself and Cosima cuddling under a fluffy blanket in front of it and watching old Disney films until they fall asleep in each others arms.

"I'm ready, sorry. Delphine?"

Delphine wheels around at the sound of her name, her cheeks a tint of red.

"Yes, let's go."

"Wait, what movie are we even going to watch?"

"Oh, we can decide when we're there."

Cosima cocks her eyebrow questioningly but does not object. She is up to anything after all.

The two of them walk in perfect comfort, laughing at bad jokes they tell each other and telling each other stories of their childhood.

"Yeah, it was the best day of my life," Cosima ends her story of how her father took her to Disneyland.

"But little did I know that a really bad one would follow." Her eyes suddenly change a hue. The joyful glint disappears.

"What happened?" Delphine's voice is gentle, not wanting to push her friend.

"My dad took me to Disneyland as an apology. You know... He left the next day. He never came back."

"Cosima..."

"It's ok, you don't have to pity me or anything, I'm all good now." Her face lights up once again, like nothing ever happened, but Delphine knows it's all just a charade, something Cosima has put on long enough.

"It is ok to be sad," she says softly. And she means it.

"But I don't want to be sad. Not right now. Not with you."

Delphine's eyes catch Cosima's and what she sees is truth. The charade soon becomes reality and Delphine can all but feel her heart pound fiercely against her chest. She hasn't even realised that they stopped walking. It must be strange, she thinks to herself, for two girls to stand in the middle of the pavement, staring at each other. But she does not care. She does not notice the passers-by. She only sees Cosima and her genuine smile.

"So... You wanna get to the cinema or something?" Cosima breaks the silence awkwardly. However, she felt it too. The undeniably strong force pushing her towards Delphine. No, the force which Delphine radiates is _pulling her in_. Although her nerves tremble as if a thunder has just struck her she, much to her surprise, seems to like this giddiness. But she is not ready to fall, not just yet.

"Oui, of course," Delphine mutters and resumes leading the way to the cinema she looked up on the internet the day before.

This is going to be a long day, she thinks and bites her lips which bend into a smile.

* * *

 **A big thank you to my friend, Sam, who reads and corrects all this stuff! Thanks, buddy, you're the best! Additionally, I would like to thank Kyu (Guest) for correcting my crappy French in chapter 1!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

* * *

"I still don't understand why they changed the rules in the middle of the game though," Cosima complains as she suppresses a yawn.

Delphine insisted on watching The Hunger Games when they arrived at the cinema, claiming that the movie would be awesome since she has already read the books, being a fascinated fan.

"If you already know the plot, why watching it?" Cosima asked and to which she did not get an answer.

"Because President Snow is a despicable person," Delphine replies.

"Ok, I am totally confused, why did that Peter guy throw a piece of bread at that Cat woman, I totally don't get this."

"That is because _Peeta_ loves _Katniss_ ," the taller girl emphasises.

"Ok, I'm still confused." There was no need for her to say it, for her furrowed brows speak for themselves.

A secret smile forms on Delphine's rosy lips and she stifles the chuckle building up in her throat. She can't wait to see all kinds of expressions of Cosima, she thinks to herself, watching the bespectacled girl cocking an eyebrow whilst trying to fathom the concept of the film she has just watched.

"I'm hungry," she states after giving up on attempting to understand the fiction.

A mischievous smile creeps into her features and with an innocent look she turns to the French girl.

"Didn't you say you'd cook for me?" Her smile turns into a goofy grin.

"Quoi? When did I say that?"

"Oh, at breakfast, I distinctly remember."

Delphine skims her memory and remembers with a gasp.

"You want me to cook... Right now? Where?"

"Yeah, let's go buy the stuff you need in the supermarket just around the corner and then you make do magic in my kitchen."

In the supermarket the two of them look through tall shelves filled with various products and foods, and Delphine wrecks her brain trying to find a dish she cooks impeccably to impress the shorter girl. Although she has set her mind on pasta - who could possibly resist pasta? - she finds herself being pulled to the frozen food section by Cosima who points at a big margarita pizza.

"How about we eat that for today and you practice your cooking a bit before actually preparing something for me?"

"Cheeky," she laughs in response, "But you know, I don't need practicing," she says, winking at Cosima.

This feels so right, Delphine thinks, everything feels so right. With Cosima she feels so... Herself. She can be herself without having to hold back certain parts of herself; she can say whatever she wants, knowing that Cosima would be listening, and all that makes her feel so at ease and cared about. Little does she know that she has the exact same effect on the other girl.  
With the pizza as the only thing in their basket, the two girls stride to the queue at the till.

* * *

The noise made by the traffic does not disturb the perfect harmony humming in Delphine's chest as she walks beside Cosima, neither thinking about any directions nor about anything else beside the girl next to her who slowly opens up to her. Cosima is like a jungle full of secrets. The many exotic plants may confuse you with their vivid colours and you may be intimidated by all there is to discover. But ultimately, it is not about the big and obvious things that explorers want to see but the little ones - the little animals hiding under the umbrella of leafy green, or the swift birds hopping from one branch to the other so quickly that only the trained eye can catch a glimpse of them. And Delphine, picking up her training to discover every little bit to Cosima's intricate idiosyncrasy, is overwhelmed by the conversations abound with Cosima's ideas, stories, and personality. Delphine, however, is not overwhelmed by the information cascading on her, but rather with bliss. How lucky she is to be accepted by this special girl, how lucky she is to be the reason why she is laughing, how lucky she is to be next to her right now.

"Delphine? Are you listening?"

The blonde blinks, disrupting her strain of thoughts with a meek shake of her head, and clears her throat awkwardly.

"Of course I am," she reassures the questioning, smirking brunette.

"Are you sure?"

"Oui."

"What's my favourite book?"

"It's uh... Harry Potter?" she guesses. Who doesn't like Harry Potter?

"Wrong," the bespectacled girl laughs.

"And I wasn't talking about books either. Admit it, you weren't listening." A playfully cruel smile supports the brunette's victorious smirk.

"Fine," Delphine concedes with a sigh.

"Ha! Caught ya." A tongue peeks through the thin gap between her perfectly arranged and white teeth.

"What were you thinking about?"

"I uh..." Delphine stares at her moving feet nervously. What was she even thinking about?

"I was thinking about..."

"Me?"

Delphine's heart skips a beat. Did Cosima just read her mind? Looking up anxiously, her fearful eyes meet playfully glinting black embedded in a palette of complex brown.

"You ok?" the shorter girl asks, noting the sudden streak of panic in the blonde's features.

"Y-yes."

Cosima lets it go at that, not wanting to invade Delphine's personal space, because she would not want anybody to cross the line to hers, thus not pushing anybody out of their comfort zone. Cosima has just befriended Delphine - she does not know where the boundaries lie, and being too scared to cross anything and destroy this wonderful bond she has found with another. Something she is sure of she will never find again.

 _What do you do when all you want is to dive into the sea but you're too scared that it might cause a tsunami?_

* * *

"Oh my god I am so full, I can't move anymore."

A chuckle emitted by the angelic French girl vibrates through the darkness of Cosima's bedroom. The comfortable coldness of the ground is, for the first time, shared by another person and, to Cosima's surprise, it does not grant her the comfort she used to grasp so desperately. The coldness is nothing compared to Delphine's warmth - a thing utterly alien to the broken girl.

Delphine's being in her dark room is so strange a thing, for she is the opposite of everything this hell holds. She is an angel that is destined to free an innocent soul from its misery, chaining her to this everlasting night of agony.

In midst of all the wonder, Delphine cannot help but pity her ever so slightly. Can this wretched prisoner of the night even conceive of the aesthetic of day, of sun, of light?

"Delphine?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever feel like the darkness that's surrounding you is eating you up?"

Delphine turns her head to find Cosima's face tense in a sort of pain Delphine cannot even imagine.

"And then, slowly, you feel like you're part of the darkness? Merged with it?"

Despite Cosima's relaxed breathing, her muscles contract in contrast.

"Oh Cosima," Delphine whispers softly while reaching out to caress Cosima's cheek. But it is not enough. Therefore, she moves closer to Cosima and pulls her into her arms, a hug so gentle yet so electrifying.

This is sempiternal. No force, neither mundane nor spiritual, can part the two souls linked by a physical embrace, balancing out the polarised friction between hell and heaven.

"Delphine?"

"Oui?"

"Will you stay?"

"Of course," Delphine husks gently and presses a subtle kiss on Cosima's feverish forehead, putting her to sleep like a newborn. How can somebody be so hard yet so fragile at the same time, she wonders.

"Of course I will stay."

Delphine flutters her eyes shut as Cosima's breathing, a metronome in Delphine's arms, cradles her to sleep.

Delphine rouses, her hair a mess and every single bone in her body aching. How can Cosima like lying on the ground, she asks herself and entangles herself from the petite girl who is still soundly asleep, and gets up. What time is it? Peeking through a little gap of the blinds covering Cosima's windows, Delphine notes the growing nightfall which sweeps away the remnants of the jolly day.  
Despite Delphine's stretching her nimble limbs the dull ache does not cease, thus, she leaves for the bathroom to walk it off and to recompose herself.  
Throwing back a glance at the still sleeping brunette, a ghost of a smile on her lips, Delphine slips through the creaking door, praying to not wake her up.

An owl hoots in the nearby woods in harmony with the refreshing wind which scrapes the little leaflets of spring along its course. There are two dainty shadows dancing on the vast meadow which protrudes from the edge of the sinister forest where strange animal sounds ring through the blackness of midnight - the crescent moon hardly enough to illuminate the grassy plains.  
One of the shadows hushes to the other and as they move their phantom body to the rhythm nature provides it whispers, "Promise me that this is forever. Promise that you will never leave me."

"I promise."

 _I basked in her, holding on to her promise, knowing that it will pull me out of this hole of despair._ _But then I woke up and found myself alone, darkness surrounding my lonely body. I couldn't breathe. Where was she? I couldn't breathe. I was scared. I was falling. I couldn't breathe._

* * *

 **Ooh, a cliffhanger, how mean of me *evil villainous laughter***


	6. Chapter 6

**First of all, I have to apologise for this tardy update! It wasn't my intention to keep you guys waiting on a cliffhanger, really (I'm usually not that mean). It was because m** **y laptop broke - the hard drive was defect, but luckily it could be fixed! Yay! Thank you guys for your patience, you are the best!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

* * *

Delphine flushes the lavatory. While she washes her hands in cold water, not bothering to wait for it to turn warm, she looks into the mirror and rolls her eyes at her messy hair. She know  
As that nothing can smooth the blonde, stubborn curls out, nonetheless, she pushes her wet hand through her golden locks in an attempt to restrain she leaves the bathroom lazily, she hears an obtrusive noise similar to a panting canine. Concentrating hard to discern the direction the strange sound comes from, Delphine holds her breath and tiptoes to Cosima's door. Now being able to hear it more clearly, the panting sounds more like someone choking. With a fleeting gasp the French girl finds herself unable to breathe. Is it _Cosima_ who is making these morbid noises?

Delphine practically tackles the door and finds Cosima lying on the floor; her hands clenching her chest and her face scrunched up, fighting the invisible pair of hands choking her.

"Cosima!"

Fear fills Delphine's stature to its very edges, her heart momentarily stopping.

"Cosima, mon dieu, please breathe!"

Cosima's suffocating sounds bury Delphine under a thick layer of freezing panic. Like an avalanche, the cold sweat beads, which embody her utter fear, run along her long spine. Delphine kneels down beside Cosima and as if Cosima would fall apart any second, the blonde places her hands on either rigid shoulder firmly to hold the anxiety-stricken girl together.

"D-Delphine," Cosima chokes in between pants. "I... Can't... Breathe."

"Look at me," Delphine pleads, cupping the brunettes face and staring intently into the American's wild, brown orbs shaded with terror.

"Look at me," she repeats softly, "and focus on your breathing. Breathe in," she inhales to demonstrate, "and breathe out," she exhales. Cosima's laboured respiration stabilises as she followed suit of the blonde, but her choking is replaced by a sudden outburst of sobs. Her petite frame trembles as panic brims it.

"Come here." Delphine neither knows what happened nor what to do, therefore, she snakes her shaky arms around the brunette's quaking body and pulls her into an adamantine hug to reassure Cosima of her being there.

"Why did you leave," Cosima cries, "You promised you'd never leave me!"

Delphine does not quite remember ever having promised anyone to never leave them before, but she chooses to do so now - to renew the promise she has never given - for she knows that she will never leave her indeed because she is not physically able to keep herself away from the captivating brunette.

"Shhh, I'm here. Cosima, look at me," she tucks the brunette's chin towards her face.

"I never left. And I promise you that I never will, d'accord?"

Delphine's eyes wander to Cosima's cracked lips. And all Delphine wants to do is to press her own against them.

The promise, this time _tangible_ , relaxes Cosima and her weeps stop, even though her heart is still heavy with fear. Fear that this might be another dream. Fear that the growing affection she has for Delphine will get out of control. Fear that –  
Cosima's mind goes blank as Delphine's gentle lips capture Cosima's. In a moment of shock, the brunette freezes, not knowing what to do or what to think. However, as the kiss progresses into a daring and needy collision of two contrasting beings, each craving the taste of the other, Cosima decides to not think and bask in this one moment of happiness.  
The bespectacled girl's hands snake up Delphine's back and settle in her divine hair, savouring its soft feel. The blonde's slender arms coil around the other girl's waist to pull her closer, but moreover, she wants to make sure that Cosima cannot escape, to make sure that she is hers and hers alone. The brunette, on the other hand, crawls on the taller girl's lap.  
Eventually, Delphine breaks the kiss, satisfying her lungs with the oxygen they yearn for. Despite the need for air being appeased, there is something else she absolutely needs - she needs Cosima. More than she needs air.

"What happened, Cosima?"

"I don't know." The petite girl smiles bravely, even so her cadence is burdened with sadness and angst.

"Talk to me," she says in muted tones. "It's ok."

"I... It's just... This just happens sometimes. I have those attacks sometimes and mostly they are about trivial matters. Panic attacks just hit me sometimes."

"What were you panicking about?"

"I feel so safe with you." The brunette swallows and braces herself for what she is about to reveal. "And I've never felt any safer. But then I woke up and you were gone and it must have been a dream but in that dream you told me that you'd never leave me and then I woke up and you were gone and I had no idea where you were and I felt so betrayed because you promised and I was just so scared and alone," she blathers.

"Oh Cosima..." Delphine's heart stings listening to her rapid prattle which makes little sense to her, nevertheless she can make out her blatant uneasiness.

The two girls stare at each other. Neither knows what to think. Neither cares about what to think. Both listening to their intuition - their rawest instinct - and crash into each other anew, wet and voracious lips moving against each other in keen anticipation. As Delphine licks Cosima's bottom lip to smooth out it's crusty valleys of dried skin, she knows that they were meant to kiss, to complete each other. As for Cosima, the panic assaulting her just a while ago is long forgotten and in lieu of it glorious euphoria cascades on her.  
Cosima feels the blonde's lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. The ecstatic kiss is put to a halt as Cosima husks, "What?"

"You. This. Us." Delphine answers. Her pupils dilate and her hazel brown eyes take a darker shade. A shot of carnal desire hits Cosima's core, watching Delphine display her enamouring habit of lip biting before their ravenous mouths connect again.  
Just when Cosima's tongue emerges into Delphine's mouth, and an explosion of sparks blast through their excited bodies, a cell phone rings. Both girls jump in shock and their heady excitement is replaced by utter bemusement, clearing their clouded minds.

"Merde," Delphine puffs and blushes when she catches the agitated look on the brunette's also flushed face.

"Can I..." the French girl points at her bag in which the phone rings more impatiently with every second passing by.

"Yeah, totes, go ahead," Cosima says and grabs the back of her neck in a fluster, telling herself to contain the giddiness.

"Hello?"

It must be Delphine's parents, Cosima reckons, because the moment the person at the other end of the line started talking, the blonde freezes, her eyes wide.

"Désolée, j'ai oublié mais - "

"Oui, mais - "

"Non! Je - "

Delphine groans and tries to reason with who seems to be her father in a heated slur of French.  
With a sigh, a roll of eyes and a defeated "d'accord" she hangs up and closes her eyes, one hand in her tangled hair, the other still clutching her smartphone.  
Finally, she flutters her eyes open and turns to the bespectacled girl, an apologetic smile on her face.

"I... My... It's... My parents want me to go home," she elaborates crisply, her gaze fixed on the floor. "They are very strict, especially my father. He is angry because I didn't tell him I was staying out so late. I am sorry, Cosima, I must go."

"Oh," the other girl utters in response, disappointment coating her voice.

"I'll stop by tomorrow, I promise."

Knowing that the blonde will return, Cosima cannot help but smile sillily. A wallop of hope warms the brunette's insides and even as the blonde is getting up and gathering her belongings, she fidgets in excitement and prays for the next day to come as quickly as possible.  
The blonde kisses Cosima one last time before she husks, "See you tomorrow," and disappears through the door to hurry home to her angry and impatient parents.  
The brunette can't believe what has just happened. Delphine, a _girl_ , kissed her. They _kissed_. Delphine _kissed_ her. Horror immediately metamorphoses into beatific disbelief. Still frozen on the ground she replays the passionate acts of affection she did not know she had for Delphine until now. Tickling warmth boils in her stomach and whatever she does, she cannot wipe that goofy grin off her face. When was the last time she felt bliss?

 _That night I opened my blinds. My blinds which somehow have become some sort of metaphor to me. I have always refused to let sunlight glide into my room. I have always refused to let any kind of love glide into my heart. Now, I finally open them. Now, I finally open my heart. But the moment I did open my blinds, I was greeted by the same darkness that spread in my room. A blinding darkness. A deafening darkness. A darkness moulded with agony and despair.  
_ _I look closer. No, this is different. I open my window and jerk as the night sighs a warm breeze at me, and look at the ceiling of black dotted with uncountable sparkles and one spot of silver. I've never realise how beautiful the moon was. I've always thought the moon was very lonely, brightening the sky every single night without anything surrounding it but I have never been more wrong. The moon is surrounded by a thousand little stars,_ _each one so far away from the other, yet, somehow they look so close to each other._

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 **Thank you for reading, reviews are much appreciated! Oh and by the way, if you have any questions of any sort, just PM me or send me an ask on Tumblr (URL's the same). You can also send me a PM or an ask if you don't have any questions and just need a weirdo to fangirl with! (This is my feeble attempt to make friends.)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello people! I've always updated this story quite randomly and I figured I should settle for a day. So, I'm gonna update every Wednesday (yay)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

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It's a very warm evening for autumn, Delphine thinks while she saunters past bright display windows which show consummately dressed mannequins bent in vivid poses. If it was not for their blank faces, one could easily assume that real people are bragging about their expensive apparel behind that see-through wall.

Delphine withstands the cascade of wretched passers-by whose faces fade in a blur, in fact, she can withstand anything after the intimate moment she shared with Cosima. It is a very warm autumn's evening and the fate of two young souls have met. Two young human beings are blessed. Is it the work of God? Delphine was raised in a strictly Catholic family in which every moment of bliss is believed to be a gift from the Lord who watches over them, guides them. In spite of visiting church every Sunday, reading the Bible over and over again, and praying every time before a meal for as long as she can remember, the concept of God appears questionable to her. Her family's bliss has little to do with the Lord, owing to the fact that everything the Cormiers have achieved was through hard work and endless determination. Their belief bewilders Delphine, even as a child she could not understand religious stances and once when she pointed out that she did not want to pray before dinner, she was chastised sternly by her father, a cold and serious man who never smiles because, according to him, life is a solemn matter and nobody should laugh at it because if you mock it, it will give you hell (quite literally). But the blonde is secretly convinced that her father lacks humour, is all.  
Toying with the idea of God leading her to Cosima, she realises, she has never wanted to believe in God more than now. However, at the same time, she has found another person to worship, a person she is utterly sure of existed, a person she knows will hear her prayers and answer to them.  
Delphine's cheeks redden as she reminisces about how Cosima tasted. Cosima was not her first kiss, nonetheless, it was beyond wonderful, and Delphine incredulously sniggers at herself for thinking that her past sloppy kisses were actually good. Compared to Cosima, her past kissers were bad, pitiful even.  
Still blushing, Delphine enters the grand building and waits for the upwards-arrow of the slick lift to light up while she fumbles about in her bag for her apartment's key.  
 _Ding._ The lift is decorated very plainly, yet elegantly like the rest of this tall building.  
 _Ding._ The fifth storey. Delphine exits the lift just as its doors part in the middle like a thick curtain revealing a new scene in a play. The door to the French girl's apartment is simply designed, painted in snowy white, opening to a chic flat.

"I'm home," Delphine calls out.

"Where have you been," her father asks crisply from the living room, where he is seated with a newspaper in both hands and a pair of round glasses on the bridge of his nose, not looking up.

"At a friend's."

"Which friend?"

Delphine sighs. She is 16 years old, she is not obliged to tell her parents every single thing, but she knows her father's temper and therefore tells the truth. Why should she lie anyway?

"Cosima."

"And why did you not give us this piece information before you chose to go over to your friend's?" He finally puts his newspaper down and eyes his daughter like an eagle its prey.

"Papa, I am sorry. I am very tired, can I please go to my room?"

"Of course you are tired. Do you know what time it is?"

"Oui." Delphine closes her eyes and braces herself for her punishment which is bound to come, since her curfew time was more than an hour ago.

"What time is it?"

"Papa, please..."

"What time is it?" he shouts angrily.

Suddenly, Delphine's mother staggers in and steps between her husband and daughter, coaxing, "S'il te plaît, chéri. Elle est fatiguée. Nous pouvons parler demain."

"Don't you shield her this time. Do you know how dangerous it is to be outside at this hour? We've just moved here, we don't know where it is safe and where ruffians lurk."

"I wasn't outside, I was at my friend's house," Delphine cuts in, clearly annoyed.

"Shush!" The sharpness in her father's angered voice makes her flinch, however, the shock is instantly overtaken by rage.

"Non, I won't shush! I have always done what you wanted, never asking why! What's wrong with me staying out late for once?" she hollers, tears brimming her eyes.

She hates it when he shouts at her for such petty reasons - she has had enough - and she took no shame in yelling back - this volatility she inherited from him after all.

Without another word, she makes her way to her own room, ensuring that she slams the door loud enough, before tossing her jacket and bag on the floor, and throwing herself on her softly cushioned one-person's bed. She does not cry, because she does not want to concede that much power to her father whom she sometimes cannot help but loathe, although she knows that it is wrong. He took part in creating her after all. Why must he end such a beautiful day in calamity? But Delphine refuses to be sad. She _refuses_ to. It is not hard to change her mood abruptly, all she has to do is to think about Cosima, because Cosima does have that much power over her. And she does not even mind.

* * *

"I'm home!" Cosima's mother shouts, ready to be welcomed by silence, since she has long gotten used to her daughter not answering her calls. But on that particular evening, she is surprised with a jolly, "Hey mom!"  
Cosima comes running down the stairs and halts right in front of her tired mother with a cheerful grin.

"You seem happy," she says, smiling tiredly, and slips out of her amber sandals which she places next to her daughter's pair of black Converse on the rough mat.

"And you seem tired."

"Yes, today was a horrible day. There was a stubborn patient who wanted a leave. Jesus, that lady was," she sighs as she ambles into the kitchen, collapsing on a chair, "a lot of work. And there were a few other nasty people."

"Like who?"

The mother cocks an eyebrow at her daughter in bemusement.

"Since when are you so very interested in my work?"

"Just trying to do some small-talk, mom." The daughter raises her hands in defence.

"And since when do you do that? Don't get me wrong, honey, I like small-talk especially with my daughter who normally doesn't even say hello to me," Natasha reproaches her daughter in feigned anger.

"People change," the lass shrugs.

"But not overnight. Tell me, what happened today that made you such a talkative person?"

"I've always been talkative."

"Says the one who locks herself in her room all day long till food's ready."

"Speaking of which, did you bring some food? I am kinda hungry." Right on cue, Cosima's stomach growls furiously and her mother cannot help but make a face.

"My poor kiddo. I didn't bring food but there's some stuff in the fridge," she hesitantly adds, "I think."

Cosima's mother walks towards the big refrigerator the size of which is utterly unnecessary regarding that its only contents are a carton of milk, two cans of beer, a carton of eggs, and a few carrots.

"Ok... Do you want to eat carrots?"

Cosima snorts.

"I can make you an omelette if you want," her mother tries again.

"Oh yeah, that would be great. Thanks, mom."

"I am really sorry, honey. God, I'm a terrible mother." She presses her index and middle finger of both hands against her temples.

"No, mom, you're doing an ok job, really. But you'll do an even better job if you bring some food next time," Cosima states, smiling innocently.

"Thank you, honey," her mother whispers weakly before spreading her arms for a hug which her daughter accepts gradually. They used to hug a lot after Cosima's father left but over the time, Cosima isolated herself from everyone, including her mother. This is the first time in aeons the two of them, mother and daughter, share a moment of closeness which is both physical and emotional.

"Mom, I need to tell you something."

Natasha releases her daughter to get a better look of her face before asking, "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I think I'm in love."

"But that's wonderful, Cosima," her face lights up. "I am glad that you found somebody who makes you happy. Who is he? Does he like you back?"

"The thing is, mom, it's not a he."

"What do you mean?" her mother narrows her eyes, puzzled.

After a heavy sigh, Cosima musters enough strength to say it. Say it Cosima, she tells herself, it's not that hard. Say it– "It's a she." Cosima holds her breath and tries to read her mother's blank expression. A hundred horrid scenarios play in her head and if it was not for her getting dizzy she would not remember to let go of that breath she was holding.

"Are you saying that you're in love with a girl," her mother summarises, her facial expression illegible, her tone monotone.

"Y-yeah."

All of a sudden, her mother's expression changes and Cosima is facing a warm smile and a pair of cordial, brown eyes resembling her own, which is far off from the detrimental scenario in her head of her mother kicking her out because of her abnormal liking. But instead, her mother responds with a supportive smile, an understanding pat on Cosima's arm, and a question: "And does she like you back?"  
Tears are threatening to fall. Cosima is touched by her mother's benevolence and acceptance. She has almost forgotten how loving her mother is. Despite all the times Cosima snarled at her, made rude remarks, she still loves her, cares about her. How could Cosima forget that her mother has never stopped loving her? That her mother was by her side, no matter what happened? Remorse starts chewing on her insides; She can almost taste the bile.

"Yes, mom. She likes me back." A tear shining at the brim of Cosima's eyelids finally streams down her face, leaving a glistening trail.

"I love you, mom," she stammers, her lower lip quivering and her eyebrows arched.

"Oh honey, I love you too," her mother coos and hugs her again.

Under the burdened roof of a house too large for its two inhabitants, a mother and daughter mend their fragmented family in the dimly lit kitchen where once sat a man who used to be part of it, but they realise that they do not need him. They realise that a woman is not bound to a man and she can find happiness very well without him.  
When something is broken off, sometimes one does not have to refill the gap. Sometimes one has to smoothen out the sharp edges. That is also a way to mend brokenness.

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 **Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

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 _'Bonjour, meet me after church? x'_

 _'I'll wait in front of it x'_

Cosima is up early today. Cosima is one of those people who shift between the overly soft mattress and the layer of thin sheets until midnight and fall asleep just to wake up at 5:00 o'clock in the morning. After a few hours of being awake, she usually falls back asleep until school starts, or on weekends, until afternoon. This peculiar sleeping cycle has developed since her father's leaving next to a bunch of other strange issues, her isolating herself from everybody else and her persisting foul mood for instance. Ever since her parent's divorce, she has been plagued with pervading anhedonia, up until she has lost interest in everything, even in her own life. Could this be a depression? Yes, it could be. Did Cosima care? No, she did not care in the slightest. But now, now that everything has changed, she feels alive again. She wants to live again. She likes to be alive again. Her life was pushed down a valley by one single person action, and her life is being carried up a mountain by one single person. What a single person can do to your whole existence is quite scary. Cosima does not want to dwell upon these tragic memories of her past, for today she is up early and utterly smitten.  
Cosima kicks her blankets away, hops out of bed, frolicking down the stairs some of which squeak when her light feet tap on them, and turns into the kitchen permeated by a pungent smell of burnt toast.

"Morning, mom."

"Morning, sweetie! Uhm... I kind of burnt the toast but I'm making a few pancakes," Cosima's mother says, her wavy, brown hair swaying back and forth while she flips the pancakes adeptly.

"Holy watershed, it's been ages since the last time you made pancakes!"

"Yes, holy watershed indeed. Where the heck did you even get that from? Syrup?"

"I don't even know and yes please!" Cosima grins at her mother just like when she was a child. Everything seems to be like before, everything is surrounded with carefreeness. Cosima is genuinely happy.

"Look at you, all chipper. That girl must have gotten to you hard," Natasha remarks, grinning and blatantly delighted to see her daughter's set of white teeth showing in an excited smile.

"Yeah, she's–" Cosima pauses to think which word to use before deciding on "awesome".

Her mother laughs, amused by her love-struck daughter, and asks, "What's her name?"

"Delphine." Cosima can never grow tired of uttering those two syllables.

"Delphine? The blonde one with a French accent?"

"You met her?"

"Didn't she drop by a few days ago?"

"Oh. You met her. What do you think of her?"

"She sure is pretty. And tall," Cosima's mother adds, scrunching her nose. "Are all French people that tall?"

"Mom, how am I supposed to know, I've never been to France!"

"That's something we should do though! I've always wanted to go to France, sipping French wine and eating French cheese, it's my childhood dream. But too bad I never got the chance to fulfil it," she says dreamily, her mind obviously an ocean away from where her body is.

"What time is it," Cosima queries, a mouthful of mashed pancake stowed in her cheek.

"Let me check. It's 10:38."

"What?! Holy watershed, I have to go!" Cosima stuffs the last piece of pancake into her already packed mouth, then runs up into the bathroom to get ready.

"What just happened?" Natasha asks nobody in particular before shrugging and getting on with her own breakfast.

In the meantime, Cosima, who already brushed her teeth and washed her face, stands in front of the mirror, still slightly disgusted by her image but not by far as much as just a couple of days ago, and tries to put on some eye-liner - the way she always does. Over the past months she has refined her eye-liner look which is also a thing she picked up since the family's tragedy.  
Getting dressed as quickly as she can manage, Cosima speeds down the stairs, shouting, "I'm going out!" before shutting the door, and darting towards the church Delphine attends.  
"Shit." Preaching ends at 10:45 o'clock and Cosima needs at least 20 minutes on foot to get there. She is going to be late.

* * *

Her father seems to be in a fairly good mood after preaching, thus Delphine grasps the chance and asks him innocently, "Papa, may I go out with a friend today?"

"Which friend?"

"Cosima," Delphine chirps.

"D'accord, but today you're going to be home on time, have I made myself clear?"

"Very." She knew it would work. Her father is always in a very delighted state of mind after church, because, he once said, God takes all his troubles away.

"Merci," Delphine mentions before disappearing among the horde of oddly dressed ladies with particularly large hats, their sole purpose to hide the elder's fading hairline.  
Grey clouds veil the morning sky, announcing the gushing rainfall which is about to come, howling wind picks up occasional carrier bags and reddish leaves and whirls them in a miniature cyclone. Goose pimples erupt on Delphine's bare arms and shoulders. Orienting herself on the weather from the day before, Delphine chose to wear a sleeveless, drapey, white top which matches her pair of worn skinny jeans, but obviously it was a mistake.

"Where is she?" Delphine mutters, rubbing her arms to keep warm as she stretches her neck, back upright, in search for a little brunette. _Her_ little brunette.

Suddenly, a pair of warm hands are positioned on her waist. Is it a kidnapper? A pervert? _A rapist_? Delphine shrieks and wheels around to come to face with a goofy smile.

"Cosima! You scared me!"

Cosima chuckles. "I'm sorry. And I'm also sorry that I'm kinda late. I'm kinda always late, so kinda always sorry."

Delphine can all but smile, her breathing quickening to her thrumming heartbeat, and places her gentle hand on Cosima's face as her eyes trace the brunette's jawline until they land on her pair of rosy but chapped lip. Reminding herself of her current situation when a chilly gust causes every single hair on her arm to stiffen, Delphine removes her hand reluctantly, her heated blood contrary to her cool body a relentless rush through her blood vessels.  
Cosima notices Delphine's being cold and without a word, she takes off her cardigan to give it to Delphine, because that is what you do when the person you love is cold, right?  
Accepting the offer whilst chewing on her bottom lip, the blonde puts on the warm, Cosima-styled, and Cosima-scented cardigan which she is sure of, she will not return to her all too soon.

"Thank you."

"No biggie," the shorter girl replies contentedly. "What are the plans for today?"

"There are no plans."

"Wait, what do you mean 'there are no plans'?"

"I haven't thought of anything, I just wanted to see you."

Cosima's face lights up. "You wanted to see me," she repeats in hushed tones, convincing herself that she is not dreaming.

"Well, how about we take a walk?" she suggests.

"Oui, that would be nice."

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 **Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

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Her hand is so warm, so very warm, Cosima never wants to let go of her hand, her strong and gentle hand, a hand so reassuring, even a wailing infant could be stilled by its sole touch. Cosima never wants to let go of Delphine's hand.

The two girls roam the busy streets of San Francisco, fingers intertwined, unbothered by where they are going to end up or how far away they are from home, for they do not care. Two warblers fly passed them, the wind one with the lighthearted twittering, and Cosima notes that the two birds could have been Delphine and herself, flying freely over rainbows and clouds into another world - a world of their own.

"You know, when I was younger my father took all my books and burnt them, because he thought they were ungodly. But they were simply books. I wondered why my papa had burnt all my beautiful books with such beautiful stories. But with time I realised those books had a deeper meaning, a morale even. They told stories of independence. Papa couldn't allow that. We were chained to Jesus, to God. We could never be independent." Delphine smiles sadly.

"I really wish I had a choice. I don't want to commit to God. I never had a say in this."

"But you do," Cosima counters. "You always have a choice."

Delphine's pace slows down, her heart swells, she does not dare to look at the girl whose hand fits so well in her own, because she is scared that the look on Cosima's face will break her. Delphine senses Cosima's perplexed eyes on her face, studying her like nobody else ever cared to do, and she wants to look into her eyes and tell her how much she appreciates her, how much she loves her. However, she does not. Because, this she knows, once she sees Cosima's face a mingle of empathy and affection, she will break.

"Nobody's ever given me a choice," Delphine whispers, eyes fixed on the grey, perfectly square stones comprising the pavement the two of them stand on, oblivious to the passers-by who have to walk around them.

Cosima's hand slips out of Delphine's, a sudden wave of coldness and emptiness follows. But still, Delphine does not look up.

"Hey," Cosima coos. "Hey, Delphine, look at me." Cosima touches Delphine's pale cheek, a gentle stroke–suddenly all of Delphine's fears are gone, abandoned in the darkest corner of her mind–and she looks up, up into Cosima's kind, loving eyes which awaited her. They are a palette of brown Delphine cannot put into words because between the different shades of chocolate brown and coffee brown, there are other complex hues she has never in her life seen before. Whatever whirl of colours Cosima's eyes are, Delphine is sure that they are her favourite.

"You always have a choice," she husks softly, so, so softly.

Delphine does not break as she anticipated, on the contrary, a sense of power flushes through her stiff body and she feels stronger. Reassured.

"I love you," she blurts out before she has the chance to contemplate her words. But she does not have to contemplate them, for they are a raw exclamation rolling so easily, purely off her tongue, there is simply no need for contemplation.

A wondrous smile flashes through Cosima's faces, her features a composition of untinged affection, of unconditional love.

"I love you, too," she says before leaning in for a kiss. The kiss is like a portal, sucking the both of them into a world which nobody else has access to. A world of their own.

"Maybe we shouldn't make out in the middle of the street." Delphine can taste the cheeky grin against her lips.

"Oui," the blonde rasps, mustering all her strength to pull away from her newly-found drug, her addiction thereof everlasting.

"Come on, let's go. I wanna show you a place you're gonna love." Cosima lips twitch into a lop-sided smile, and Delphine's long fingers find solace between Cosima's as the brunette leads their way through the streets of the city familiar to her.

"You're really gonna love it."

"What is it?"

"You'll see." She winks, grinning.

"Brat," Delphine scolds jokingly, copying Cosima's grin without knowing.

"But really, you're gonna love it."

"Can you stop saying that please? My curiosity is killing me," Delphine says, her curls flying with the wind against her face.

"Ok, hold on, just around the corner and you'll see. You are going to love it."

"Cosima you are such a brat and–"

"And I know you wuv me." Cosima wheels around, tongue between her teeth, the same cheeky smile plastered across her ever-bright face. When has it peeled its ever-sad skin?

"Here it is," she announces, pointing at a store in which dozens of different tones of barking sound, before the French girl could scold her any further.

"A... Pet shop?"

"Yup, my favourite. I used to hang around, taking the pups out for a walk. Bummer, I don't get paid for this. If I got paid, I'd be hella rich by now!" the dreadlocked lass exclaims, her hearty laughter ringing through Delphine's anatomy.

"Come on, let's go in." A little hesitant, the French girl is dragged inside this mad box of barking.

"Hello you," Cosima addresses a little Dalmatian puppy in a little cage, barely large enough for it to move.  
The tiny Dalmatian raises its head briskly, ready to get out of its cage.  
Delphine presses her free hand against the glass, the puppy naively licking the spot where her thumb is pressed against the barrier.

"Pauvre petit chiot," Delphine whispers.

Cosima stares at Delphine's profile, her golden eyelashes protruding from the edge of pristine eyelids, the bridge of her nose a delicate fence between her hazel eyes, her magnificently conspicuous cheekbones, and her pair of red, slightly parted lips. Delphine's face is perfection, even without any make-up. She prefers it natural–not that she needs any make-up.  
Guessing the meaning of what the girl next to her has just said, Cosima says, "You're the puppy." The cheeky grin never faltering.

"Look who we got here," a man's husky voice sounds from behind. Cosima turns around, not letting go of Delphine's hand.

"Cosima! Here to walk the dogs again?"

"Joe! Hi! Nah, not today, sorry. I'm here to play with the puppies though." She shoots Delphine a quick glance. "Joe, this is Delphine, a–" Cosima contemplates calling Delphine her girlfriend, lover, her everything, but settles with "a very good friend."

"Hello Delphine, I'm Joe, the owner of this little place. Nice meeting ya." He winks. "Enchantée."

"Oh, and French," another wink, "one helluva friend you got there, Cosima." He wiggles his bushy eyebrows.

"Don't mind him, he has no life and obvs no wife," Cosima remarks, arching her eyebrows at the middle-aged man.

"I don't need no wife! I got dogs. They're loyal as crap, unlike wives. Who needs wives anyway," he snorts.

"Maybe you need a husband," Cosima suggests.

"Hell nah! I like dogs, really, but I don't like it doggy-style." Cosima laughs and Delphine can all but do the same. Delphine notes the easy-going banter between them and wonders how Cosima made a friend so much older than herself.

"Hey, can you do us a favour and take that little dude out of its cage?"

"Anything for you, pal. I guess that's the least I can do considering that you've been walking the dogs every now and then, _and_ returning them safely," he jokes, disappearing through a door and reappearing behind the Dalmatian puppy at the other end of the wall. He grabs it carefully and emerges through the same door, not empty-handed.

"Il est très mignon," Delphine states, in utter awe towards the young creature, not even noticing the switch of language.

"Minion indeed," Joe teases and hands the newborn dog to Cosima. She finally lets go of Delphine's hand to take the small Dalmatian that she cradles in her arms. The same girl that is holding this fragile creature with so much affection was the girl holding Delphine's hand just a second ago, Delphine notes awe-struck. She is absolutely enamoured of Cosima.  
Cosima notices Delphine's staring and offers the puppy to her, her lips an encouraging smile.

"Take him."

"N-no, I shouldn't, I don't know–" But before Delphine can finish her sentence, the puppy is already in her arms, a bundle of warm, spotted fur.

"Isn't he cute?" Cosima coos.

"Oui." Delphine's voice a subtle whisper.

The two girls stayed for what seems like aeons, playing not only with the Dalmatian but also with many other puppies. Eventually, Delphine throws a glance at the clock hanging on the wall behind the messy counter and shrieks in shock.

"I should be going, I can't be late today!" she mutters. "I promised my father not to be late today, he'll ground me for eternity if I don't uphold my promise."

"Hey, don't panic, the sun's not even setting. If we go right now, you'll be perfectly on time," Cosima tries to soothe.

The blonde nods before saying, "Ok, let's go then."

And so the two of them leave in a haste like the speedy cars on the road–but unlike them there is no traffic to hold Cosima and Delphine up.

"Thank you, Cosima, for walking me home."

"Walking? More like running you home!" Delphine giggles. How does Cosima manage to make her laugh every single day?

"I hate to go but–"

"It's ok," Cosima cuts her off, "I don't want to be the one you get in trouble for. But it's nice to know you actually would get into trouble for me." A lop-sided smile, an arched eyebrow, mischief in her eyes–Cosima is smirking at Delphine and she loves it. All Delphine wants to do is kiss the smugness off of her face, despite being so close to her homophobic family. However, she risks it anyway. A chaste but nonetheless electric kiss.

"See you tomorrow," the French girl husks against Cosima's lips, stripping her of her ability to breathe.

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 **Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

* * *

Cosima's eyes shoot open. The golden sun rays push against Cosima's shield of blinds, birds cheering them on. But it was not until Cosima gets out of bed to pull up her blinds that the rays reach her bedroom floor, illuminating wood of light, coffee brown. Cosima rubs the sleep off her eyes and wonders what time it is, hence throwing a glance at her clock to realise that it is 6:03 o'clock.

"Ugh, Monday," she groans. "I hate Mondays."

A smile spreads across her face as she remembers Delphine's words: "See you tomorrow." A lovely smile, a last wave and the building's doors swallow her. Cosima just stood there, transfixed, mesmerised by the girl she loves–who loves her back.

"Can't wait to see you today." Cosima has almost two hours of time until her school starts and she does not know what to do with her time.

"Maybe I should sleep a little more."

"I'm going to school," Delphine announces.

"Attend Delphine! C'est très froid aujourd'hui, tu as besoin d'un pull ou une veste," her mother says worriedly like all mothers do on a windy late-autumn's day.

"Non maman, I don't feel cold. I should leave now otherwise I'm going to be late for school," she states simply before closing the door behind her. Immediately the corners of her lips twitch up when the blonde reaches inside her bag to pull out Cosima's grey cardigan which still smells of Cosima–a sweet mixture of vanilla, washing powder, chamomile, and something else Delphine cannot quite put her finger on. She slips into the garment which fits her perfectly and makes her way to school.  
The moment she steps into the classroom Delphine instantly detects Cosima looking out the window dreamily the way Delphine is accustomed to. Delphine does not know if Cosima chooses the right spot, the right angle to brood in purposely because the way the a streak of rainbow-hued light cascades right on her, underscoring her unlined face. Cosima's brown, ponytailed dreadlocks are a shade lighter in the glow. Her usually sombre aura has dissipated.  
Delphine's teeth squeeze her bottom lip. However, Delphine only notices her habit in action until sharp pain signals her brain to stop. Her tongue brushes over her lip set out to alleviate the pang.

"Good morning, Delphine!" a sudden high-pitched, feminine voice calls out. Gasping, she wheels around. It is one of her newly made friends whose name she does not quite remember, in spite of spending lots of time together in breaks. But the time they spend together is nothing near personal–it is comparable with news-paper skimming. You know what cruel things happen in the world but you do not feel affected by it because you lack details, you lack the interest in grasping these tiny pieces to finish the jigsaw.

"Good morning," Delphine slurs, slightly out of breath.

"How was your weekend?" The blonde girl with thin features and a pair of perfectly shaped honey eyebrows and glossy lips smiles at Delphine maybe just a tad too counterfeit for Delphine's liking.

"I-it was uhm... It was very good, thank you." Directing a quick glance at Cosima whose attention is fully on drawn to the French girl, Delphine turns back to the girl and tries to end the conversation although not knowing how because the instant Delphine opens her mouth to speak a lie in order to escape her prying eyes and gossipy mind, blondie voices, "Nice cardigan you got there, where'd you get it?"

Another quick look at Cosima. Is Delphine ready to lead an officially bisexual life?

"It's from–" an intake of breath, a sudden flinch, a moment of silence. And another attempt: "It's from a f-friend." A look at Cosima–and Delphine's heart stops to shatter into millions of pieces which clink at the pit of her stomach because the look on her face, the sad, the disappointed, the _hurt_ look on her face is devastating. And then she turns away. Hiding in her pain, building up her fallen walls, telling herself that Delphine is but one of those who are ashamed of being with her.

"Your friend has great taste. Who is it?" Delphine does not answer. Her mind is too worked up with Cosima's grief which _she_ inflicted on her. Delphine wants to pull at the hands of time to reverse the damage she has done. She wants to jump in a time machine for whatever price she must pay just to make this right. But she cannot. What has been said cannot be taken back. The incorporeal words mingle with the air in the room and mess with the atmosphere, turning it colder than ice.

"You still with me? Delphine? Hello-ho?" The blonde girl waves at Delphine for a few times before she gives up and leaves, snorting, "What's gotten into her?"

Five steps which feel like none at all. Four breaths Delphine does not know she took. Three blinks each lasting too long. Two girls in a world of their own. A thousand heart beats per second.

"Cosima, I–" However, Delphine is cut off by the teacher striding into the room, throwing a loud "Mornin' class!" into the tense air.

"Everybody on their seats!" Delphine cannot help but reluctantly oblige, her eyes still fixed on Cosima's although Cosima does not look anywhere near her.

Just like that, an hour passed. Cosima not looking at Delphine and Delphine staring at Cosima, trying to read her thoughts. How big is the damage? Is it repairable?  
Delphine's mind is lagging; she does not have the slightest clue as to what to do. She decides to slide a little note on Cosima's desk which reads, "Talk to me after school?" The brunette's jaw tightens and all the hurt is replaced by a steeled mask of blankness. Her expression is unreadable.

Just like always, the students storm out of the classroom, all weight lifted from their shoulders when the teacher announces the end of the last period, in addition to no homework. Nonetheless, two dreadful figures linger waiting for the storm to come–and to go as quickly as it came in.  
The blonde individual sighs while staring at the ground, searching for words suitable enough to explain an action she does not understand herself.

"Cosima, I need you to know that you mean very, very much to me," she finally blurts out.

"I must be a very good friend then." The response is cold, distant.

"Non, you're more than that!"

"Oh yeah? Because this morning you made it pretty clear."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was doing!"

"Delphine, why are you even wearing that stupid cardigan if you're ashamed to be with me?"

"I'm not," Delphine cries. She takes a step towards Cosima, the loving Cosima she is trying to win back. "I'm not ashamed to be with you. I'm just–" a heartbeat goes by "–scared."

"Of what?" Cosima shouts.

"Are you scared that people will think badly of you because you hang out with the bitchy girl with no friends? Are you scared that you'll lose yours if you spend time with the freaky girl no one likes?" Tears are beginning to well up in her eyes because there is too much anger, too much hurt, too much of everything for her safe of feelings and emotions to lock up.

"Non! Cosima, this is not it. I wear your cardigan because I love you but I am scared of what the people will think of me, yes. But, listen, it's not because I fear them to think badly of me because I am with you! I am scared because I am not used to this sudden change in my sexuality.  
"I panicked, I was wrong. I should have told her the truth. I was just scared of the change. But there is nothing to be scared of because I have you and no matter what comes with this change, I will accept to be with you. Je t'aime."

"Delphine," Cosima rasps, having a difficult time bottling up all her feelings and emotions which she somehow still manages, "what am I to you? Where is this relationship going? I just need you to be 100% sure and I need you to be ready. I just need to know that you'll commit as much as I have and will. Because Delphine, I won't survive it if you leave me." Her lip trembles, her eyebrows arched. She laughs at her own words, a pained smile working along with the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Mon amour, I will never leave you." Delphine moves closer to Cosima and cups her face to brush away the hot tears with her thumbs before leaning in for a sincere kiss.

* * *

 **At Josie (Guest) who "obviously [has] no life" but a very impressive theory: Let's just keep your theory a secret, shall we? ;)**

 **Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.**

* * *

"Delphine?"

"Oui, mon amour?"

"I'm bored." Delphine rolls her eyes, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips but does not look up from the textbook she is reading.

"What do you want to do on a Friday afternoon such as today?"

"I don't know, that's the thing," Cosima rolls closer to Delphine, her head on her lap, and starts pouting which she knows will work on Delphine.

"How about you do the homework which is due next Monday?"

"Ugh, no. It is due _next_ Monday, I still got plenty of time."

"You do realise that our first biology exam is coming up next week, oui?"

"Delphiiiiiiiiine, I hate biology and I really don't care about the exam." Delphine finally closes the textbook and raises her eyebrows at the petulant look on the brunette's face, incapable to resist touching her adorable face. Cosima shifts, removing her head from Delphine's lap, just to snuggle into Delphine who drapes her arm around Cosima's waist. They could lie on Cosima's soft bed forever.

"You don't hate biology," she whispers softly, a gentle stroke on Cosima's cheek in sync with her voice. "Biology is beautiful. Doesn't it fascinate you that we have feelings, that we can talk, that we can move, that we're alive? Without biology we'd be abiotic, we'd be objects. It fascinates me to no end that we are actually alive. What are the chances that we are _alive_? There are so many planets out there with no signs of life on them, although I must say that I do not eliminate the possibility of extraterrestrial intelligence, but life started to develop on Earth. Isn't that a wondrous thing? And it is so interesting to find out how each and every organism lives with each other either in expense of another or in favour of another, you know? Like parasitism, symbiosis, and–Cosima? Are you listening?"

"You're so cute when you ramble." A dopey grin is glued on Cosima's face and by the dreaminess in her voice Delphine can tell that she was not listening but she does not mind.

"I will make you love biology just as much as I do, that's a promise."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Oh, yes it is, Miss Cormier." Delphine leans forward for a kiss. What was planned to be a chaste, teasing kiss morphs into electrifying passion and neither of them wants to break it. However, as human as they are, they pull away to satiate their need to breathe.

"Have you ever watched 'Jurassic Park'?" Her lips are a millimetre away from Cosima's, her warm breath tickling them. Cosima holds her breath, a lungful of Delphine's discarded air, and barely remembers to answer.

"I've heard of it," she mumbles as to not let the remaining oxygen which coursed Delphine's lungs leave hers.

"I think you're going to like it." Finally, their lips meet anew.

"How's your injury by the way?"

"What injury?"

"Don't you remember? I kind of stabbed you in biology class a week or so ago?" Delphine bears a guilty and apologetic look despite having already apologised to Cosima and knowing that it cannot have been her fault alone.

"Ugh, Delphine! You need to let that go because as you can see I am as healthy and alive as can be. Stop beating yourself up about it." Delphine knows what look is going to greet her when she looks up–the look Cosima always gives her when she tries to talk sense into her. The look one can easily mistake as stern but the longer one stares into her hazel eyes, deep with compassion, empathy, and sympathy altogether, the clearer one sees the actual expression: an expression forged by said feelings. Delphine has only seen the mixture of all three feelings–compassion, empathy, and sympathy–on Cosima's visage. How it is even possible to show all three at the same time, she wonders. Delphine both likes and dislikes it. Why she likes it? Because every time Cosima's eyebrows scrunch together just the slightest, tiniest bit, and her eyes widen just as marginally, Delphine knows that whatever she would be revealing Cosima would be attentively listen. And she would not judge. The reason she dislikes it, however, is the frustration hidden in the brunette's body language. Delphine can feel the her frustration. Frustration about how Delphine beats herself up because of these trivial matters which could never ever contaminate the image of perfection Cosima has of her. Delphine knows the look she dreads right now, nevertheless, she peeks up. And there it is. Her glance falls back on her feet clad in a pair of rather colourfully striped socks she pulled out of a corner of her drawer half asleep this morning. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Trust me, you're healing me more than you could ever hurt me. Without you I'd be a sad pool of raging water.

"Delphine, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes?"

"What are we?"

 _What are we?_ A silly question which echoes through Delphine's mind. It is so easy to answer but the sounds just do not want to come out of her.

"In love. We are in love." She meant it.

"Yes, I knoooow, but, like, what are we? Is it appropriate for me to call you my girlfriend? Or do you feel more comfortable being called gal pal? Or my boo? I can even call you bae if you want to." Cosima's toothy grin, her light tone, her easiness–Delphine cannot help but erupt in laughter.

"Tu es très mignonne," she says, rocking to and fro, laughing. "Girlfriend would be nice."

"It's settled then. I'm gonna call you my bae." Delphine laughs while getting up, turning on Cosima's laptop as if it is her own and searches for the film she would like to show her _girlfriend–_ something tumbles down her stomach at that word brigaded with Cosima. She knows it is foolish to be so excited about a single word but Delphine cannot help it.  
After she finds "Jurassic Park", she nestles herself against Cosima on her untidy bed, the laptop on her lap.

"You're going to like it."

* * *

"Holy watershed. Ho– holy watershed! Wow, this movie is awesome! There's a second part, right? Tell me there are more of 'em. And... And can you really recreate dinosaurs by that droplet of blood? Does it really contain the DNA of freaking _dinosaurs_? That is hella rad. Hella fucking rad. What one single droplet of blood could do! It's awesome. Just awesome."

Delphine smiles triumphantly. "I kept my promise."

"What?"

"I promised you that I'd make you love biology as much as I do. I see you're just as mind-blown by it as I am."

"Uhm... I still don't care about photosynthesis or, I don't know," Cosima's hands cut through the air vividly, "all that complex stuff about T-cells... or other stuff."

"You will, ma chérie, you will."

* * *

 **Do I realise that my chapters are getting crappier? Yes, I do. Do I realise I should get on with the plot? Yes, I do. Ugh, I'm sorry people but school's started a week ago and I'm exhausted. 11th grade sucks, so much pressure, so much stress, gaargh. I could rant all day long but I'm going to keep it short: Due to stress caused by school I'm lagging a bit with this fanfiction. My apologies.**

 **To Maria (Guest):Thank you so much for your support, you are AMAZING!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello people who haven't heard from me in aeons! I am sorry for disappearing for a whole while, school's been eh... I know I said that I'd update weekly (hehe) but I don't think I can keep up with that. I will definitely keep updating this story, there's not that much left anyway. Thank you for your patience and support!**

* * *

"Thank you for walking me home," Delphine whispers just loudly enough for Cosima to hear.

"No, thank _you_."

"For what?" Another barely audible whisper.

"For being with me. For reciprocating my love. I never thought that anybody could actually like me let alone love me. So thanks for making that happen."

Delphine does not know what to say. The words have slipped from her mind, one by one, but one single, short sentence stayed in her mind—etched to her mind. Three words she only knows the meaning of when looking into Cosima's warm and loving eyes, three words she will never be tired of hearing from Cosima's mouth, three words she will never be tired of voicing out loud. Three simple words every child knows. Yet, the meaning of it they will only fully comprehend when they look into a pair of eyes and their hearts start swelling until they feel like they cannot breathe anymore. However, they will not need to breathe because the person whose eyes have captivated them is everything they need to survive.  
Three words.

"I love you."

And they kiss.  
Delphine knows by the subtle force, the chilly heat, the courage reeled by fear, that this love is perpetual. Sempiternal. It will never falter, that she is sure of. So sure.  
But little does she know that behind half-drawn curtains, a pair of incredulous eyes are spying on the two love-struck girls. A pair of eyes that spit fire. A pair of eyes determined of what has to be done—immediately, under every circumstance. This is the detrimental ramification of not having kept her under absolute control. Or is the calamity yet to come? God will forgive but not forget.

"Our family's honour and slate shan't be specked with this shameful sin," he snaps under his breath, balling his hands into iron fists.

"I really should go," Delphine murmurs, breaking the kiss. "But I really don't want to."

"Then stay." Cosima's lips hover over Delphine's—the longing tension of which both of them are conscious of.

"Cosima..."

"Ok, ok," she backs away in almost painful acquiescence despite her noticing Delphine's cringe as the space between them grew uncomfortably bigger.

"See you tomorrow then." Delphine's heart races as she memorises her girlfriend's goofy beam which she hopes to see again in her dreams later that night.

Delphine knows that the longer she stays staring the harder it will be for her to let go of Cosima's hand and to turn around, thus closing her eyes and letting go. This goodbye is only temporary after all.  
Or is it?

The moment Delphine puts her key into the lock, she senses the wave of paralysing tension which invades her body like a parasite, picking at the warm, both tranquillising and exciting feeling that is Cosima. Her insides are lurching, her heart rate is increasing, she breaks into a cold sweat. Automatically, she turns the key. Opens the door. Looks into the lethal pair of blackness, dilating in utter rage. They do not have to speak—Delphine already knows what this is about and she feels like she might retch any moment. She chokes mid-breath, too scared to inhale, too tense to exhale.  
 _He saw_ , she thinks.

"Anything to say to your defence?" he spits at Delphine, rage colouring his face in a shade of deep red.

"I love her," Delphine pleads, unable to suppress the stutter her trembling jaw begets.

"Shut your mouth! Do you not know of what greatness your sin is?"

"Non, papa! Please, listen to me," Delphine cries, staggering backwards, as her father advances to grab her, "please, papa! I have not changed, this love hasn't changed me for the worse, only for the better. I am happy, papa. Is that not what you would want for me?" Tears are spilling. Tears so small yet so full of fear. Tears which Delphine has never cried before.

"Shush! Do you not realise that the abomination has brainwashed you?"

"Non, it was my own choice! Please, papa..."

He finally grabs her arm with a vice-like grip and draws her into her room, ignoring her desperate pleas and her terrified cries as he gives her a little shove.  
His finger pointing threateningly at his own daughter as if she is not of his kin anymore, he growls dangerously, "Pack your things. We are leaving as soon as possible."

"What? Where to? You cannot do this, papa!"

"Oh, I can do it all right. Now, pack your things."

His low, seemingly calm command reverberates through Delphine's cells. Only one thing is on her mind: What will happen to Cosima? What will happen to the relationship which makes her happier than ever? Could she ever be as happy as she is with Cosima with another person? No. She could not. Something similar to courage flushes through Delphine's arteries, providing her enough strength to control her tremble, to compose her posture, and to fight back.

Just as her father turns to exist her room, she balls her fists and takes a deep breath.

"Non."

Her father freezes. He turns around. His expression is blank.

* * *

"Aren't you hungry, honey?" Cosima's mother frowns at her daughter who has been poking her food, staring into nothingness for way too long. Natasha is scared—has her daughter gone back to being the lifeless, sad teenager whose depressed state Natasha refused to acknowledged for so long? It was not that Natasha did not love her daughter. Natasha loved Cosima, but she always thought that this melancholic person was Cosima until she saw her daughter smile the brightest of smiles, flashing all her miraculously white and straight teeth. From that moment on, Natasha knew that she has wronged her daughter. She would do anything to make it right.

"Honey?"

"Huh?" Cosima finally looks up.

"I said, aren't you hungry."

"No, sorry, mom."

"It's nothing to apologise for." Natasha pauses. Breathes in—breathes out. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Cosima's eyelids close, the tears push against the wall of flesh but fail to prise them open.

"It's just, Delphine hasn't come to school for days and hasn't answered any of my messages or calls and I'm—"

Cosima is so close to breaking. All the while she has contained the hot mess of anxiety that was brewing in the pit of her stomach which has been driving her insane ever so slowly. Is Delphine ok? Why is she not answering any of the messages or calls Cosima has been spamming her with? Does Delphine not love Cosima anymore? Or worse; did something horrible happen to her and she di—Cosima does not dare to finish her cruel thought.

"I'm scared."

"Aw, sweetie." Natasha takes her daughter's hand and squeezes it the way she used to do every time Cosima was afraid when she was but a little child.

"It's going to be ok. Hey, how about we drop by her place tomorrow? I guess they must be home since it's gonna be Friday. How about that, hm?"

"Thanks, mom." A feeble smile, no longer goofy. A feeble glance, no longer burning with passion. A feeble girl, no longer radiating life.

"Of course." Natasha smiles, squeezes Cosima's hand one last time before letting go.

"I'll be in my room," Cosima announces and leaves. The echo of her sad voice bounces off every wall in the kitchen.

The stairs seem steeper and every single step towards her little cave takes too much energy. Finally, she reaches her door, a limp hand pushing down the handle and opening the door to a dimly lit room. Her room. Where Delphine kissed her. Now it seems too big, too empty, too dark to enter. Cosima clutches a handful of her shirt until her knuckles are snowy mountain peaks, and her whole fist starts to ache. Darkness. Darkness all the way. Where has her light gone? Once again, Cosima's eyelids slide closed. Gradually, she loosens up, un-balls her fists, lets go of her shirt and lets her arm fall slackly to the side.  
Suddenly, her phone buzzes. Cosima's eyes shoot open, her whole body tenses and for a second all she can do is stare into the direction her phone lies. It took her one agonisingly slow second to take it all in but within a fraction of a second she dashes to her phone and unlocks it. Her heart is pounding. Adrenaline is being pumped to every part of her petite body. Her hands are shaking but this time she does not need another second to spare—she unlocks her phone immediately.

 _'I'm sorry. Je t'aime.'_

All sorts of questions are hammering against the inside of her skull. All sorts of feelings are ravaging her. All sorts of feelings are eating away everything that she is. But she is too numb to feel the agony. Too stupefied to notice the pain picking at her immobile heart. Is it still beating?  
 _Please don't leave me, please don't leave me, please don't leave me, I love you, please,_ are the words her brain is tossing at her. Those are the words that will not come out of her mouth.

* * *

It has been five days of confinement. No going outside save to the church, no contact with anybody but the people from the church and her own parents. It has been lonely. It has been maddening. It has been driving Delphine insane. She simply has to contact Cosima. Tell her that she loves her. Tell her how sorry she is. Tell her anything at all. With the determination fuelled by her endless love for Cosima, she sets out to find her phone. It is bound to be somewhere in this apartment.  
Delphine waits until her father is out to do whatever he does when he is outside, waits until her mother is engrossed in a TV show, waits until everything is clear. She tiptoes into her parent's eerie bedroom which lacks every non-material thing that makes a room comfortable to live in. The king sized bed which is way too cleanly made, without the slightest ghost of a wrinkle; the vintage mirror next to the intimidating armoire which looks like as though it had been in the possession of an evil warlock who condemned wretched souls to imprisonment in it. Where can her phone possibly be? The antique clock is ticking. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed. Delphine abandons her strategic way of thinking and opens the armoire, searches it as thoroughly as time allows. Nothing. Moving on. She opens the drawers to each of the nightstands adjacent to the bed. Nothing. Where could it be? Delphine is close to ripping out her curls—how much time does she have before her father returns, before her mother's TV show ends? _One last try_ , she thinks and checks beneath the bed. To her surprise, she finds her smartphone, probably carelessly tossed into the dustiest corner under the thick and squeaking bed frame, lying there with a forlorn air to it. Triumphantly, she slips under the bed to reach it when she suddenly hears the apartment's door being opened and her mother welcoming her father. She has to act quickly now. One message, two sentences, a dozen invisible emotions. And she presses the send button.

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 **Thank you for reading, reviews are much appreciated!**


	13. Chapter 13

A sigh of relief escapes Delphine's parted lips as she closes the door to her own room and slides down a wall, sitting in the dark. At least Cosima will know that she is still alive and so is her love.

It is a turbulent night. The wind howls as it tackles the buildings and trees of San Francisco, never faltering in strength. The moon is hidden behind a thick curtain of clouds, not being able to show off its silvery glow among the twinkling stars. But it does not matter to Delphine because the curtains of her window are drawn. Delphine does not notice the unjustness toward the beautiful moon. She barely even notices the quiet knock on her door.

"Delphine, supper's ready." Her father's voice penetrates through every single crack of the walls, every single crack in the door. She despises his voice.

"I'm coming."

Delphine is not hungry. She has lost her appetite since her confinement. Maybe she does not want to eat to show her parents that they are doing her wrong, that this is not possibly good for her, that it is slowly pulling her apart—limb by limb, bone by bone. But her parents do not notice. They do not care. They refuse to care. And they refuse to notice.  
Her food left untouched, Delphine stands up after ten minutes of agonising silence, claiming that she is full, that she is tired and leaves without meeting her father's eyes. She does not want to look at him and she does not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the weakness in her eyes because she will not be weak, she will not show even a hint of weakness. No, she will not give him the satisfaction.  
She does not even know what to do besides sitting in a corner of her room or on her bed, thinking about what Cosima could be doing right now, how she is doing right now, whether she thinks about her right now. And so her thoughts drift to far off places. She fantasises about what the two of them could be doing if her father did not find out; she fantasises about the beautiful life the two of them could have if they eloped; she fantasises about being able to show Cosima her unconditional love in front of everybody, not caring about what other people might think. Suddenly, her fantasies take a wrong turn—slide down a steep slope which alarms Delphine in every way possible. Her soothing fantasies turn into a terrifying nightmare. The image of Cosima lying on the floor, crying. Suffering. Dying. It is an image Delphine cannot force to disappear, it always worms its way back to the very front of her mind. It is so vivid, it is almost tangible. Almost real.

It feels almost tangible. Almost real. The dull ache in her heart a doctor could not explain but every single person knows what it is—quite literally heartache. What has driven Cosima to be so devastated? Is it the fact that she has not seen Delphine for almost a week? Or perhaps the fact that she does not even know what the message means, that Delphine could be in danger and she could not do anything to help. Perhaps Delphine has had enough of her. Cosima can feel her throat constrict, she can feel the dull ache in her heart, she can feel the oxygen seep through her nostrils without her actually breathing. _I just need to know if she's ok, if I'd done something wrong_ , she pleads before she feels the bile pushing its way up. And she collapses, follows her tears to the ground. And feels her bones crack, her muscles spasm, her thoughts go wild and blank at the same time. Anxiety fills her lungs, leaving her unable to breathe, smothering her.  
She can hear her own sobs, her own laboured breaths but everything seems so surreal—is she even alive? The high-pitched noises she makes but cannot recognise as her own which sounds like a train hitting the emergency brakes and everything Cosima sees is red blood, white walls and black nothing. She is captured by her own straining, anxiety-stricken body and every single wave of desperation carries her farther away from the shores of safe reality. It is all in her head. She can breathe if she wants to. She simply has to get out of her head. However, the shackles of panic are keeping her prisoner. All she can do is slowly rot away in a pool of angst.  
A familiar voice calls her name, so so desperately. Cosima knows this voice all too well but right now, the matching face refuses to pop up. Who is it?

"Cosima, honey, please! Breathe! Can you hear me? Oh my God, Cosima, look at me!"

"D-delphine."

"Delphine?" the panicked voice asks. "Ok, hold on, honey."

Cosima's head is spinning, her body is spinning, the whole world is spinning. In spite of her difficulty to breathe, there is something utterly preposterously funny to this situation. A disco ball has differentiated from the dense white, dancing to the whipping beat of the wind. Cosima wants to get up and laugh at herself. She wants to jump out of the window, joining the frolic in the dark sky, and float to somewhere entirely secluded from worries. And she would be averse to returning home, to reality. Cosima's eyelids are lead. They have become so heavy, she cannot help but—

Meanwhile, the sinking feeling in the pit of Delphine's stomach seems to only gradually grow. It has turned into a cyclone, uprooting her burning intestines; she feels like she might throw up any moment. Something is wrong, Delphine just knows it. To diminish the boiling unease, Delphine stands up carefully. Her eyes are aimed at the metallic door handle and with a few silent strides, she faces her wooden door, a safe barrier between her parents and herself. She opens the door just a little bit. Her parents are sat on the cardinal red sofa, side by side but not quite touching, their eyes glued to the flatscreen at the other end of the rectangular living room. The TV seems to be loud enough to let Delphine slip into her parents' room once again unnoticed, therefore, with a racing heart, Delphine tiptoes the few metres which appear to be kilometres until she opens the door subtly. Her toes brush against the wooden ground in her parents' room and she can almost feel her blood turning into ice. Delphine spins around to check whether her parents have noticed; she has forgotten that she has already closed the door. She is safe—for now.  
She crawls under the bed, gets her vibrating phone. It is Cosima.  
She picks up.

"Âllo?"

She cannot breathe. What awaits her at the other end of the is so shockingly familiar. She wishes that it is not.  
But it is.  
Delphine can hear Cosima's desperate rasping, her exhausted panting, her silent cries for help.  
It is the worst kind of nightmare anybody could have.

"H-hello? Delphine?"

"Oui," Delphine answers mechanically, only focusing on Cosima's strained breathing which evokes a tingly kind of fear, taking over her muscles, her nerves, her whole body.

"It's me, Cosima's mom, y-you have to come here at once, please, she's—" her voice breaks and Delphine does not know if Cosima's mother is crying or screaming or not making a noise at all.

"Oui," is the only thing Delphine utters before getting up and darting out of her parents' room, past her bewildered parents, out of her home.

She runs and runs and she can feel the lack of oxygen setting her lungs on fire, but nevertheless, she keeps running and she does not look back. She sprints past faces, cars and buildings and she does not care. Fear fuels her legs, love fuels her heart and the thought of almost reaching Cosima's house keeps her sane.  
She runs and runs and runs. She crosses a street. She passes a block. She reaches Cosima's house. It is only then that she acknowledges the horrible stitch which impedes her from standing upright. The pain is excruciating, multiplied by her sharp intakes of air. But Delphine cannot lose any time. She sucks in a breath. And presses the doorbell.  
 _You're going to be ok, Cosima,_ she thinks.  
The door is flung open within seconds. Natasha stands on the threshold, utter horror in her eyes. Natasha means to greet Delphine, means to tell her how grateful she is for her showing up, however, her lips are sewed together and her vocal cords are ripped. Her expression say more than her mouth ever could. So, Delphine dashes past her wordlessly, knowing the structure of Cosima's home like the back of her hand. Up the flight of stairs, turning right and there she is. There she is. The door is left open. There she is.  
Suddenly, Delphine does not know what to do anymore.  
Cosima is a trembling shard of agony, reflecting all hues of pain. Her broken pieces are so sharp, poignant, it hurts Delphine to see her shaking on the floor, eyes shut. "Cosima," Delphine whispers as she kneels down beside her, a careful hand caressing Cosima's quaking shoulder. "Shh, you're going to be ok."  
Cosima twitches slightly under the warmth of Delphine's hand—it is a collision of hot and cold.

"D-Delph-Delphine."

"Shh, you're going to be ok."

Delphine pulls her into her arms, applying pressure to all of her mental wounds, mending all of her broken pieces.

"I'm here, you're going to be ok, I promise," she whispers into her ear.

"Please don't leave, please please please, I'm scared, Delphine, please don't leave, I love you so much, please don't leave me," Cosima mumbles, sobbing.

"I'm right here and I'm not going to leave, d'accord?" The blonde strokes Cosima's quivering back, soothing her almost instantly. Delphine notices how Cosima hugs her a little bit tighter before lifting her head shakily to look Delphine in the eyes.

"Please stay."

"I will."

Delphine's nimble fingers trace the salty remnants of what used to be Cosima's panic, wiping away the last bit of it until all fear has been removed and replaced by passionate affection. Both of the girls inhale a short breath. Their lips crush into each other frenziedly, both hopelessly and hopefully and both of the girls forget about the painful reality neither of them wanted to be part of—all they know is the taste of each other's lips. And that was enough for the moment.

"Delphine, I don't want to be here anymore.

"Let's run away together," Cosima whispers, a heavy wind against Delphine's lips.


	14. Chapter 14

_I love her. She was the first person who showed me such genuine kindness although I was mean to her. But it was just my defence mechanism. Be mean to whoever gets too close to you because they're going to hurt you and leave you anyway. Just like your dad. I loved my dad. I never knew he could leave his family so easily. It made no sense to me. How could we mean so little to him? It is something I guess I'll never truly understand. Anyway, I loved Delphine with all my heart. I just wanted us to be able to be together. For the first time in forever, I found happiness and I couldn't let go of it. So I suggested that we run. I didn't think. Maybe it was wrong to let her in. Maybe this all wouldn't have happened if I didn't talk to her. Maybe this all wouldn't have happened if I didn't fall in love with her. Maybe then I wouldn't lie in my own blood, struggling to keep a hold on life. Maybe if I didn't talk to her then she wouldn't be lying here next to me. Maybe then our blood wouldn't mingle with the dirty rain. Maybe we shouldn't have run away. Maybe then I wouldn't be teetering between life and death._

* * *

"What?" Delphine cannot believe what she has just heard. Run away? Where to? Before Delphine has the chance to voice out her questions, the hollow sound of the doorbell resound almost lazily to which Delphine stiffens abruptly. "My parents."

Cosima turns to look into Delphine's distant eyes. "What?"

"Lock the door, Cosima, lock the door," she says hysterically, getting up and locking the door herself.

"What? Hey, what's going on?"

"My parents are here. They are here to get me. Cosima, I've been confined all this time. My... My parents can't... They can't take me back home. They will... They will murder me." Delphine pivots again and again, not knowing which direction to face, what to do next. Her hands find shelter in her messy curls, her eyes are toing and froing.

"We have to go. Now."

The stairs squeak under the weight of three adults ascending the old spine leading to Cosima's bedroom. The heated conversation between Natasha and the Cormiers is getting louder, almost loud enough for the two girls to catch.

"We have to go," Delphine repeats.

"We can climb out of the window," Cosima gestures towards the it. "We're on the second floor but it's ok, I've climbed out of it before and it's pretty much safe. I have a rope here, we can fasten it to my desk."

Seeing the sceptical expression on her girlfriend's face, she chuckles briefly. "Don't worry, I've really done this before and as you can see I'm fine. Didn't break anything. I promise," she assures her, a hand on her arm, squeezing lightly.  
There is a knock on the door.

"Cosima? Honey, Delphine's parents are here." The handle is pushed down but the door will not budge.

"Delphine, come out here immediately otherwise you will be met with a punishment so severe you wish you had never disobeyed me even once!"

"Please, Mr. Cormier, it's my fault she's here, please don't punish her," Natasha pleads guiltily.

"You, Miss, have done enough. Now, please kindly tell your daughter to open the damned door!"

Delphine can feel the bile pushing against her constricted throat. She has had enough of her father, she is sick of him. She tightens her jaw and mutters: "Let's go," and walks towards the window. Cosima binds the rope to one of her desk's legs and throws the rest of the rope out of her window. She pulls at the hawser forcefully to make sure that it can hold the two of them.

"Delphine, come out!" Her father's angry howl could not catch up with her, since Delphine is already climbing down the rope.

"Ok." Cosima jumps down the last bit. "Let's go."

Cosima and Delphine have no idea where to go to, but nevertheless, they keep running. They ignore the stitch they have, they ignore the drizzle blinding them, they ignore the fact that they will not last out there. They simply run.  
Clouds guard the upset sky. People start taking out their umbrellas as the drizzle turns into rain. Cosima and Delphine keep running, not minding their damp clothes. There has to be a way to escape reality and for a moment they both believe that if they run fast enough, they actually will. So they keep running.

"I think we're in the clear," Cosima pants.

"Let's take a break."

"Chérie?"

"Yeah?" Out of breath, Cosima looks at the French whose curls are sticking to her forehead. There are so many horrible possible outcomes swirling in Delphine's head and every one is a bit more terrible than the former one. Faith has left her side and she is scared to her bones. It never should have come thus far. She was simply in love with another human being, how did it come thus far? How did all this even happen? And what was going to happen from this point?

"What now?" Delphine's voice breaks. Cosima cannot tell whether the drops on her girlfriend's face are tears or rain. The brunette wants to comfort her lover, however, she lacks all the words. Frankly, Cosima does not know what to do herself.

"C'mere." She pulls the slightly shaking French girl into her arms and Delphine indulges in the safety Cosima's lean arms provide. Cosima can always manage to chase away her fright.

"You know, one day we will live in the heart of New York City and we'll have our own apartment and we'll have a bunch of puppies and we're gonna be so happy. Every morning, we'll wake up next to each other and we'll make breakfast together and when we return from school or work or whatevs, we're going to snuggle on our couch, watch our favourite movies, have dinner on the couch and," Cosima chuckles caught up in her own perfect fantasies, "we're going to be so happy."

"I love you, ma chérie," Delphine answers tearily as she buries her face in her lover's shoulder. The rain has grown to a storm, icy raindrops lashing against the girls' soaked clothes and skin. Cosima's body is the only thing keeping Delphine warm in this storm.

"I love you, too," Cosima says in hushed tones.

"I... I love you so much and I just don't understand why my father doesn't see that you're my happiness. I just... To keep me away from you he locked me in my own home. I haven't seen anybody except of my parents for days and I just wanted to see your beautiful smile."

"God, Delphine, I am so sorry for what you had to go through." To hear what her girlfriend underwent stung her heart and both of the girls tense all of their muscles to refrain themselves from sobbing and from falling apart.

"We're going to get through this, I promise."

"Merci, mon amour."

Just as everything seems to be a little brighter, a satanic shadow smiles down on them.

"Delphine!" Delphine's father gets out of his slate grey car at the other side of the street, his face scrunched in crude anger. Immediately, Delphine lets go of Cosima in horror and freezes while her father takes a step towards the vulnerable girls. It is a dead end.

"What are you doing, you silly girl! Come here this instant!" he shouts.

"Non!" Something similar to courage or audacity flushes through Delphine's veins, pushing her to stand up. She will not let her father look down on her and take control—from now on she will always fight back.

"Why won't you let me be happy?"

"Oh, I am preserving your happiness! This," he spreads out his arms as a gesture, "what is this supposed to be? Running away with the homosexual bastard? You are ruining your life!"

"Shut up! You have no idea how your actions make me feel. You always say you want the best for me but don't you see?" Fury is throbbing at her temples, her soaked curls alleviating the heat like a cool pack. "You think you know so much but you're wrong!  
"You are wrong," Delphine emphasises, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown out the splashing rain. "I have never been happy under your pathetic control. I have never wanted the things you wanted me to have, I never wanted to be the person you wanted me to be! And all those years you never noticed how empty I was. I never knew what true happiness was! And that's all because of you!  
"And then I met Cosima," her voice is suddenly a soft tune, a gentle melody played in G minor. She glances to Cosima who took her hand and squeezed it lovingly. A sign to show Delphine that she has her back. "And I have never been so happy in my entire life." Tears collide with the unfeigned smile on Delphine's face. It is a heartbreaking kind of happiness that surrounds them.

"You are out of your mind." His face is like stone—his expression hard, his features distinctive—and rage is burning in his hazel eyes which are so different from Delphine's. "I did not raise you to be a dyke. I did not raise you to be a dishonour! See what she has done to you, my sweet, innocent child? Don't you see the devil's hand in this game? Don't you see what the devil's done to you!"

Suddenly, Delphine lets go of Cosima's hand and strides towards her father in defiance, halting in the middle of the street, only a few steps away from her father.

"If Cosima's the devil," she spits at him, "I will gladly follow her to hell."

"How dare you," he splutters. As his rage flashes through his limbs, he forcefully grabs his daughter by her arm and just as he is about to tear into her, a light flickers through the waterfall of rain. It all happens so fast, neither father nor daughter has the time to comprehend what is happening, both being way too engrossed in their passionate feelings and emotions. A flicker of light, a steady yet sudden honk, and the caterwauling of wheels. Everything slows down. However, it cannot be slow enough.

"DELPHINE, WATCH OUT!"

Cosima leaps forward and tackles Delphine with all the strength she could muster. It was an instinct, a reflex, but she would not have done any differently if she had the time to think.  
Cosima's petite body thuds into the braking car which is sliding on the wet streets as if there was a thick layer of ice, leaving limp flesh and bones on the cold, hard ground.  
And the storm did not lessen. The sharp raindrops wash away the brilliant red like nothing ever happened.

 _Maybe we shouldn't have run away. Maybe then I wouldn't be teetering between life and death._


	15. Chapter 15

_If I should die tonight I'll leave, knowing that I died for love, and what better way to die than for love? I don't really believe in God, heaven and hell or something beyond life but right now the promise of seeing Delphine in another universe is what's taking my fear away. Maybe it's gonna be like waking up from a nap in an airplane: I'm gonna be confused, I'm gonna ask myself where I am and then I'm gonna realise that I'm above the clouds. And then I'm gonna wait. I'm gonna wait for her like a girl, anticipating the return of her newly-wed wife. Yes, I'm gonna wait for her and when the time is right, we're gonna be together in an alternate universe._

* * *

Distant voices lure Delphine back to consciousness. She cannot grasp the meaning of each sentence, the babble sounds like a foreign language to her, although she is quite sure that the language spoken is English. Slowly, the orally aligned words make sense and some voices even start to match faces. Her eyelids are less heavy and with quite some effort, she manages to open her eyes just to be welcomed by a bright light.

"She's awake," a high-pitched voice announces Delphine's rousing and suddenly a couple of heads blocked the white dazzle. The bed Delphine finds herself lying in is neither too soft nor too hard, yet, it is strangely uncomfortable. Rolling her eyes in reaction to the dull ache in her head, Delphine realises that someone is addressing her. "Delphine?" The very low and masculine cadence somehow calms Delphine.

"Oui?" she replies groggily.

"Can you tell me how many fingers I'm showing you?"

She squints her eyes, focuses and answers: "Four."

"Can you tell me what day it is today?"

Another question—why is this person asking her so many questions? As Delphine thinks to herself, lots of questions of her own started to form as in on cue.

"What happened? Where am I? Where is Cosima?" A pang of panic hits her like an arrow. "Where is Cosima? Is she ok?" Her voice breaks and tears are stinging her eyes which blurs her already blurred vision as grey pieces of what had occurred flash before her eyes. "I—I need to see her, where is she?" Delphine cannot hide the slight tremor in her voice despite her instinctive effort to do so.

"You need to calm down, Delphine, everything is all right." The man speaks with such a calming voice, Delphine almost believes him. "You hit your head in a car accident but it's not a very serious matter, so, you don't have to worry. The external wound has already been fixed up, five stitches. We also checked for major internal damages but you seem to be relatively fine. We assume that you have a slight concussion, we'd have to check it now."

"Where is Cosima?" Delphine enquires again subduedly.

"She is in another room and—"

"Can I see her, please?"

"I don't think it's a good—"

"Please."

The tired looking doctor, a tall man with crisp, blonde locks and soft features, pinches the bridge of his nose in defeat, then shoots the attentive nurse next to him a knowing glance and addresses Delphine: "Fine. But first, you will have to cooperate, we have to make sure that you don't have any internal bleedings or other kinds of injuries."

"Ok." Delphine chews on her lower lip once, trying to calm herself in face of all the horrible scenarios playing in her head. She forms a mental image of a broken, bruised, blood-covered Cosima, a dozen catheters and tubes connecting her to machines. Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Delphine forces the picture out of her head as she shudders briefly. Cosima will be all right. _But what if she won't?_ Cosima risked her life to save Delphine's, and although it is one of the most honest and ultimate way to show another that one loves them, Delphine cannot indulge in the proof of Cosima's love as all she that swirls in her head is that Cosima might die and it would be her fault. It would be on her. The love of her life died because of her. Delphine shakes her head again, this time a wee bit more vigorously, resulting in her feeling a bit dizzy.

"Delphine?" She looks up and meets the doctor's azure blue eyes. "Please stand up and stand on one leg." Delphine does as she is told, though a little bewildered. "Now I want you to tap your nose with your hands alternately. Good, and now I need you to close your eyes. Keep tapping your nose." It must be a very strange sight, Delphine thinks but does not protest, trusting in the doctor.

"You may stop now. All right, please sit down again." He does not look at Delphine when he speaks as he notes Delphine's current condition. "Does anything hurt?" He is still scribbling. "Non, I feel fine. Can I see Cosima now?"

"Yes, one moment please." He clicks his pen and slips it into the pocket of his white coat. "Before you see her, I think you should know that she is currently in a state of comatose. We can't tell you more since the results of various tests aren't there yet. Are you ready?" There is a sharp edge to the words he uttered which cannot quite be processed by Delphine's brain since it is so contradictory to his amiable face and his gentle voice. However, Delphine does not spend another second thinking about it.

"Yes, I am ready."

"Alyssa? Could you please take her to room B21?"

"Sure. Let's go," the nurse with the high-pitched voice gestures Delphine to follow her. Delphine's heart is pounding hard, she does not know what it is that awaits her. Her legs move mechanically, automatically.

"Here we are."

"Here we are," Delphine repeats in hushed tones, more to herself than to the nurse. She tautens her jaw and opens the door which is separating herself and the love of her life who might never wake up—no, who will definitely wake up—and Delphine wants to make sure that she is there when Cosima rouses. Still, worst case scenarios haunt her anxious soul the moment Delphine lays her eyes on her still lover, lying in the hospital bed in a deep slumber. Too many catheters and other tubes are connected to her petite body. Cosima looks even more fragile than she has ever had. "Oh, mon amour," Delphine whispers as she glides towards Cosima's limp and sallow body. Her hand reaches for her soft face and a shiver runs down Delphine's spine as her fingers collide with Cosima's warm cheek. Emotion fills Delphine's eyes. Her lover's name breaks from the jail that is Delphine's mouth. "Cosima"—three renegaded syllables inciting all the linguistic inmates to rebellion, to jailbreak. And so, Delphine continues to utter: "Ma chérie, please wake up." A tear rolls down her face. "I can't do this without you. Please, please, please wake up. I am so sorry, so, so sorry. Je t'aime. Oh, Cosima."  
But nothing happens. The air is as still as ever, the silence disturbed by the steady beeping of various machines which are attached to Cosima by various tubes. Delphine perceives through the layer of anguish in her eyes that Cosima's heart pounds stoically. She hopes that Cosima never stops battling the demons. That she never stops battling any kind of demons— _her_ demons as well as the demon that is death. _I can't be here,_ a part of Delphine yells in her head. _I can't leave_ , is what another part whispers. The whisper might be quiet but so much more powerful than the howl. Thus, she stays, never letting go of Cosima's hand. Her warm hand.

* * *

 _I've long learnt that darkness is not what most people conceive of it to be. Most people think that darkness is bad and dangerous even. I guess that in some cases it's true. I mean, people do get stabbed or molested during night because the darkness offers a blanket of optical protection for those assholes who decide to just screw up someone else's life so they could have a bit of fun themselves. Come on! This is not how things should be! If you're a sexual harasser then please just go fuck yourself instead of other people who Do Not Consent To Your Perverseness.  
_ _Sorry, that took a wrong turn. It gets boring trapped inside my own body. Should I even be able to think all this? Am I even thinking? Anyway, what I wanted to say was that darkness isn't always bad. It grants people protection not just those criminal shitheads but also everyone else, if one lets it. Different people need to be protected from different dangers. I, for one, had to be protected from reality for the longest of times. Reality was my own personal hell. My family was broken, I sucked at school, I sucked at making friends at school, and basically I had no purpose in life. I wanted to disappear. Darkness was my only friend that granted me some kind of comfort and support. Being alone, with darkness shielding me from the bitter sight of real life, of my life, I could let my mind wander a bit. I sometimes would let it explore possibilities. What if my father had stayed? We could have been a happy family. I wouldn't have become depressed. I would have been happy. I wouldn't have found being happy difficult. Some people say that once you try to be happy, you just become happy. That's bullshit.  
_ _Well, that's what I thought when I lay in my bed till the AM, still wide awake, contemplating the what-ifs. But right now, lying… Uhm… somewhere, not quite awake, I guess that it's true. I absolutely hated it when someone, or something (namely those kitsch girly quotes all over the internet), tried to get it into my brain. I was just so consumed by the way I felt, I thought it would be forever but I was so wrong. It will only be forever when you let it. Same goes with love. Great, now I sound just like those cheesy people posting cheesy quotes._

* * *

Cosima's hand grew cold. Delphine has only grown aware of that when she woke up, slightly dazzled by the bright hospital lighting. Her head pounding with fatigue and her neck tense by the rigid position Delphine has stayed put in for way too long, she gets up and stretches. What time is it? But before she can make out which numbers the hands of the clock are pointing at, she is surprised by the quiet swish of the door opening. She spins around and gasps.

"Delphine." At the door stands her father, his lips a thin line and his brows furrowed.  
Delphine does not quite know what to expect when he takes a step toward her, therefore, she instinctively takes on back to maintain the safe distance between them. He halts.  
"Delphine," he starts again, "listen to me."

"Non."

"Listen to me!" His tones are hushed but so penetrant, Delphine starts as his words take up all the space in her head. Delphine's heart is pounding hard, her legs are shaky. It feels like she would keel over any minute.  
Pointing an accusing finger at her, his father continues: "You will listen to me now. Don't you see what you have done? What this _dyke_ ," he hisses the word, now pointing at Cosima who slumbers deeply, utterly oblivious to the row between Delphine and her father that is about to explode, "has done to you?"

"Are you saying that this is all her fault?" It is hard, Delphine notes, to keep her voice down when one's whole body is quivering in indignation. All fear has left her body and it left no trace behind. Resentment filled its place.  
"Do you realise that she lies here because of you? Do you realise that if you had shown a little more acceptance none of this would have happened?"

"And do _you_ realise that if you had not let this dishonouring girl lead you astray you would have stayed clean?" He waves his arms furiously in the air as if he is trying to flip an invisible table.

"Clean from what?" Delphine snaps.

"Clean from your sins," he growls and starts for Delphine who keeps her head high in defiance. _He won't get away with this_ , she thinks to herself and builds up a defensive wall around her fragile heart. She has had enough of her father. This is it. But even as she builds her walls and arms the words she is about to say with anger and resentment, her sudden confidence cracks ever so slightly—how many times has she said that she has had enough? How many times has she sworn on her name that she would defy her father once and for all? How many times? She has not counted but she knows the answer: One too many times. What is different this time? Why is she so sure that she can convince her father of her opinions, of her own favoured ways, of her love for the girl who risked her life for her? Nothing is different this time, Delphine realises with a pang of anxiety. She is tired of fighting her own kindred. She is tired of acting the way her father expects her to. She is tired of acting tough.

"Why can't you see?" Tears threaten to roll down her face but she does not care. She does not even attempt to hold back the stream of anguish that is going to cascade from her eyes.  
Her father stiffens and meets her glazed eyes. He did not expect this reaction.  
"Why can't you see that she makes me happy? Why won't you let me be happy?" Delphine's hand brushes her eyes to clear her vision. "You know, if you hate my sexuality so much then just leave me be. I don't have to be your daughter. You can just pretend like I never existed." Her voice cracks and she arches her eyebrows. Her whole body is tensed. "But please don't try to change me. I would rather not be your daughter than pretend to be someone I am not just for your sake. I am sorry, papa, to crush your dream of this perfect daughter you've always wanted to have. I am not her. I will never be her. And I will always resent you for your forcing me to approximate the daughter of your dreams. So, let me go."

Delphine's father simply stares. He cannot believe what he has just heard. He can hear the distant beating of his faintly stinging heart. "Do you know what you're saying, Delphine?"

"Yes." The world starts to blur before her eyes and all she can think of is her lover, lying in the hospital bed beside her, in a state of comatose. "Please, papa." And her eyes are rivers, flowing and flowing endlessly, smoothly like a current of sentiments.

His father's eyes are glazed not with tears but a veil of emptiness like he is reminiscing all the times Delphine must have felt wronged by him. He does not quite know what to say. He did not expect Delphine's words, especially not the piercing effect they had on him. He sucks in a lungful of air, hoping that it would numb his senses as he cannot believe what he is going to say but he knows that he has to say it. Contemplating his behaviour towards his own daughter, seeing her standing in front of him begging for her liberation from nobody else than himself, he knows that he must do it: Grant her the liberation. The used air seeps through his nostrils and he opens his mouth: "All right." Without further ado, he turns around and stalks off.  
Perplexed by her father's lack of resistance, Delphine sniffles and dries her eyes. _What has just happened?_ Suddenly, the heart rate monitor gives off an obtrusive alarm. Delphine whips around frantically, assuming the worst.

"Cosima! Somebody!" In a moment of clarity from her panic, Delphine pressed the button which summons a nurse. The nurse, apparently new to this profession loses her cool for a second and darts outside to gather more experienced nurses and a doctor. Seeing this, Delphine panics even more—how serious is this, whatever this is? Will Cosima survive this?

* * *

 _I remember when Delphine snuck into my room one night, telling her parents that she was out with some kids from the church. We lay in my bed, snuggling close to each other, watching one movie after the other. Of course Delphine disapproved of the first three sci-fi movies of my choosing which I can't understand because quite frankly, they were hella cool. But anyway, she chose our last movie and of course she'd choose something like The Fault in Our Stars. And of course she would cry. I thought it was so adorable, I could scarcely brush the grin off my face, which I did nonetheless—for my sobbing girlfriend's sake. I remember that night so distinctly because I can still feel how she was wrapped in my arms, sniffling every now and then until her breath evened out and she fell asleep. I cradled her and drew circles on her back. Everything felt so right. Everything_ was _right. In that moment, I was more convinced than ever that we were made for each other._

* * *

Cosima has been transported into the emergeny room and Delphine is left uneasy and ignored by all the doctors and nurses who rush in and out of the ER. Delphine clasps her hands together and rests her forehead against her intertwinded fingers. One might think that she is praying but alas, she is not directing her words at God; she was hoping her words would reach Cosima in some supernatural, spiritual, or esoteric way. She was pleading, _please please please, stay with me._ She repeats it like a mantra and in some way it does seem to calm her because she concentrated on it so much that it took most of the space in her head and thinking about her mantra was much simpler than having to think about Cosima's body, life leaking out of every single limb. Delphine sighs shakily and disentangles her fingers, stretches briefly, and gets up to purchase a bottle of water at the vending machine in the hospital's lobby. She needs to move a little—she has been sitting or lying since she has been delivered into this hospital, hence the stiffness of her legs and upper body.  
The sun has risen now, a new day is breaking and the sunlight accumulates a new boost of hope.  
After downing the whole bottle of water, Delphine makes her way back to her comatose girlfriend, indulging herself in a solacing memory of Cosima and herself.

It was a very warm day and despite their body heat roasting them, they were still cuddled together on a single sunlounger in Cosima's backyard, only sporting the most necessary layer of clothing.  
The garden covered by a green and juicy rug of green grass offers very few shades, since Cosima's mother preferred bushes and flowers over trees. She found trees, albeit of the greatest importance for our planet, utterly boring and could not imagine having a massive version of a brocooli in her very limited botanic zone, therefore, the grass was fenced by a row of red, white, lilac flowers and an actual white picket fence. Delphine had found that view quite amusingly _American._

"I swear I'm going to die of a heatstroke any moment now," Cosima moaned.

"Please don't, ma chérie, otherwise I'd have to bury your corpse," Delphine joked and poked Cosima playfully in her sides.

"Ooh, we wouldn't want Miss Cormier to get dirt on her hands, do we? But, like, there's no need to bury me. We own a barbecue, it's right there in the shed. If I—no, excuse me, _when_ I die of a heatstroke, just cut me in cubes and put me on the barbecue and have yourself a little grill party." She turned her head to Delphine, curiously awaiting her reaction.

"That is... morbid," Delphine says slowly, grimacing.

Cosima laughed, obviously pleased with herself and Delphine's reaction. "I love you," she gasped between fits of uncontrollable laughter.

"I love you, too," Delphine whispered lovingly and leaned over to kiss Cosima's cheek. Cosima almost stopped laughing instantly, catching Delphine's lips with her own.

Cosima suddenly broke the kiss, her brows furrowed and a clear expression of disgruntledness written across her face. "Ugh!" she groaned. "It's too freaking hot!"

Before Delphine could come up with a solution or even something to respond, Cosima's face lit up. Her eyes were shining in anticipation when she announced, "I'm gonna get the sprinkler! I'm so hella stupid, how did I not think of this any sooner?" The sentence had barely slipped her mouth when she was already up, darting back into the house, leaving Delphine burning in the sun alone. Delphine could not help but laugh, her heartbeat quickening in bliss the moment Cosima returned with a sprinkler in hand, ready to put out the fire on their skin.  
No amount of water, however, could put out the fire in their hearts.

* * *

 _It's getting harder to hold on to this thin string of consciousness. I'm tired. The temptations of sleep, of release, of death are way too sweet and I can't imagine holding on to the bitterness of life any longer.  
_ _I want to live, I do. I didn't for way too long. I can't die now, not now that I finally got a taste of heaven. Delphine is heaven. Everything else is hell. This makes me wonder whether I'm not already dead. It is funny, though, because I have never ever felt more alive than when I'm with her._ _Perhaps I really was already dead. Or perhaps I was dying. But she, she revived me. She saved me from myself.  
I can't let go. I can't do this to her. Just a little bit longer..._

* * *

Cosima is still in the operating room and despite the uneasy impatience budding in the pit of her stomach, Delphine can do nothing but wait patiently for the surgeons and nurses to do their work. She hopes for the best.  
Time passes and every single tick of the clock on the pristinely white wall sounds like an explosion to Delphine's ears. How many more until it is all over? She shudders as an image of Cosima's grave crept into her exhausted mind. How is it possible, she wonders now, that Cosima is injured so terribly, whereas she herself only has a few scratches? How is it fair that she sits in front of the ER, her health without a blemish, and her selfless lover is being sewn together, hanging on to life by a thin thread? It is not fair. What have the two of them done to deserve this, she wonders.

In the operating room, two surgeons try their best to fix what has been broken. With minute movements they try to patch up Cosima's bleeding organs.

"Shit!" the black, middle-aged surgeon swears as a monitor beeps alarmingly.

"Her blood pressure is dropping," says the other surgeon, an Asian man with a receding hairline despite his young age. "She won't make it. The bleeding is too strong."

"No. She _can_ make it. We need more blood! Type B, fast!"

A nurse rushes out of the room.  
The moment the doors to the operating room slide open, Delphine's head shoots up.

"How is she?" she asks the nurse.

"No time for questions; she is in a very critical situation," the nurse says, panting, not bothering to halt.

Delphine's face pales and she soon starts to sob.

But what she does not know yet is that everything will be all right.

* * *

 _Everything is dark. Is this how babies feel when they are about to be born? Everything is dark and everything doesn't seem right anymore, you just want to get out of your current state, whether it's someplace even darker or someplace illuminated by life, light and love. Am I being "reborn" or am I just taking another step towards death? I don't know. To be honest, this is hella scary. It's odd. I've never been scared of dying. But I guess when you're right about to die you do get scared. Death is too finite. Just like birth. Once you're out there, you can't crawl back into the womb. You're out there, then. You exist. You touch people and are touched by other people and you create a life of your own and eventually, you reach your end. Life and death. The only thing they have in common is their finiteness. What's been done is done and will eventually be undone. Hella confusing. But amid all this weirdness of this I'm-kind-of-dead phase I know one thing and that's that I love Delphine and nothing, absolutely_ nothing _can undo that kind of love._ _  
I conjure up an image of Delphine. Her perfect curls, her soothingly brown eyes, her glossy lips and her the outline of her luscious face.  
And I knew that I wasn't dead and that I was finally conscious again when I fluttered my leaden eyelids open and saw exactly that heavenly face because the surprised, scared frown she wore told me that by waking up, I saved her, too. And by the way she smiled in relief, I knew that happier times were being born out of all the darkness I've been through.  
_

* * *

 _• • •_

Authors's note

And this is the end of the story. I'm terribly sorry to have kept you guys waiting for SO LONG. Ok yeah, this is a weird ending, by the way. To be frank, I didn't know what I was doing when I started writing this story and _as you can see_ I had no idea what I was doing when I finished it.

Thank you, dear reader, for reading this. Thank you for staying till the very end and for being infinitely patient with me! I can't thank you enough. I'd like to especially thank those who left encouraging reviews that kept me going. I don't know whether I'd have finished this story if it weren't for you guys, so, thank you SO MUCH, I love you all, you are amazing.

Lastly, I want to add that I'd like to dedicate this, my first story-ish kind of writing, to the one who saved me. I didn't anticipate her showing up in my life and brightening it up but it kind of happened (while I was writing this—this must be fate, yo). I have no idea if you can belatedly dedicate something to someone but I'm going to do it anyway. So yeah, this is dedicated Ana, a friend whom I'll always love and be grateful for, and also to my amazing psychologist Paula without the help of whom I'd still be a more than complicated, sad and angry drama-queen.

 _See, Ana? I told you that you're the kind of girl people dedicated writings to._

PEACE OUT!


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